


As Above, So Below

by Rhema



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire | Pokemon Omega Ruby & Alpha Sapphire Versions
Genre: Angst and Feels, Celebrities, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Houen-chihou | Hoenn Region (Pokemon), Mommy Issues, Nuzlocke Challenge, Pokemon Alpha Sapphire Version, Pokemon Journey, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, wonderlocke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 59,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhema/pseuds/Rhema
Summary: This is a story of a girl who's tired of pretending. She's spent most of her life putting on a show for the cameras, and she's finally broken free. Follow Lilian Meridian- the master of Contest ceremonies that you've probably never heard of- as she embarks on a very delayed journey as a Trainer, alongside her freshly hatched Pokemon partner and a certain green-haired enigma. There will be action, there will be romance, and there will be plenty of introspection- all while saving the world from a disastrous fate. On second thought, maybe Lilian should've just stayed in show business...
Relationships: Higana | Zinnia/Daigo Tsuwabuki | Steven Stone, Mitsuru | Wally & Yuuki | Brendan, Mitsuru | Wally/Original Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: Nuzlocke Forums Content





	1. Chapter 1

In retrospect, I probably took it a _smidge_ too far slapping that guy.  
  
Did he deserve it? Absolutely. Guys like him deserve to be called out. But that slap wasn’t meant for him. I mean it was, but it was bigger than just one cocky pervert. No, that slap was for all of them. All of those assholes that think it’s okay.  
  
“I want you to know that you embarrassed me today, Lilian.”  
  
“How’s that?” I retort, sarcasm dripping like thick honey from my voice. I refuse to look at my mother standing across from me. Instead I keep my arms tightly folded and my eyes fixated up, sinking further into the black leather couch.  
  
My mother lets out a tense, bitter chuckle. She swipes the remote from the coffee table, diamond tennis bracelets rustling against her wrist. The television clicks on, and in my peripheral I see her make a wide, sweeping gesture towards the screen. “Have you already forgotten this disgraceful display?” she asks through tight lips.  
  
Sighing, I humor her and tear my gaze away from the ceiling. A newscaster is gearing up to roll a clip that I’ve already watched about a million times in the past few hours. For most people, it would be strange for them to see their face plastered all over the news. Then again, most people aren’t major media personalities.  
  
I watch myself on the screen, and at the same time, I don’t. I watch the caricature of a girl my mother spent years curating. Fake hair. Fake clothes. Fake personality. None of it is real.  
  
The girl’s mouth curls into a saccharine, disingenuous smile as she addresses the audience. She sends a flirty wink in the direction of the camera, gloved hands resting on her bare waist. She dons an electric blue sports bra that accentuates her cleavage and a pair of the shortest shorts imaginable to match. With sweatband-clad arms, she gestures towards the gaggle of coordinators making their entrance. The crowd erupts in thunderous applause. She raises her hands high in the air, encouraging the spectators to cheer even louder.  
  
My heart skips a beat as a familiar man strides past her- a coordinator that tries his luck grabbing at the girl’s ass with a cupped hand.  
  
That girl is me. I watch myself seize his wrist, throwing it away from my body and giving him a hard shove. The audience gasps as he tumbles a few steps backwards. The arena settles into utter silence as I begin to shriek and scream at the guy, barely forming coherent sentences. He looks bewildered, backing away from me little by little as I carry on in hysterics.  
  
My mother clicks the television off right as I deliver a swift slap to his face.  
  
I feel the same odd combination of self-hatred and cognitive dissonance that I always do when I see myself on TV. It’s a strange sensation that starts as a hazy feeling in the front of my head and ends as a suffocating hitch in the back of my throat.  
  
I shake my head in an attempt to refocus and my wig becomes slightly askew. I rip it off in frustration, throwing it at my mother’s feet. When I decided to grow my hair out last year, she insisted I wear one to maintain my “sporty girl” image. The logic behind that still escapes me.  
  
My mother glances at the wig disdainfully, and then at me with a mixture of disappointment and contempt reflected in her sapphire eyes. I hate that I get them from her.  
  
“Are you pleased with yourself?” she asks in a measured tone, leaning down to pinch the wig with her slender fingers and sets it on the coffee table. To anyone else she would appear calm as can be, but I can already see the cracks in her composed facade beginning to form.  
  
“Thoroughly,” I mutter, running a hand through my long, loose waves. To be honest, I’m much more pleased with the fact that I never have to wear that damn wig ever again.  
  
Before my mother can reply, the front door swings open. I know who it is even before I hear the familiar clicking of low heels and the swishing of a long skirt.  
  
“You made quite the little scene today, didn’t you Lilian?” my sister simpers, plopping down in the armchair adjacent to me. She folds her hands in her lap, cocking her head in the expectant, judgmental way only Vivian Meridian manages so well.  
  
“I’m sorry, did I taint your flawless reputation?” I ask, eyeing her with abhorrence. Even without the wig, I look just like her. Same dark eyes, sloped nose, auburn tone to the hair. Same bone structure and full lips. Same beauty mark above the mouth, just different sides. We’re five years apart, but we look like we could be twins. That was always the gimmick, after all.  
  
Vivian purses her ruby red lips, smoothing her skirt with both hands. “Hardly. I mean don’t get me wrong, it was mortifying. But the Meridians can bounce back from this.”  
  
My mother nods vigorously in agreement, eyes glued to her phone as her thumbs fly across the screen. “Your sister is right. I’ll arrange a press conference for first thing tomorrow morning and Nancy has already agreed to have you on Hoenn by the Hour sometime this-“  
  
“Mom,” I snap, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You seriously don’t get it? I’m not interested in coming back from this. I’m finished.”  
  
Vivian scoffs and my mother waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t be absurd, Lilian. This is your career. You and your sister were born to be in the public eye.”  
  
“Says who?” I counter, feeling a massive lump forming in the back of my throat as I fight back tears. “Is it that surprising I’m fed up with constantly having to put on such a ridiculous facade?”  
  
“Frankly it is,” Vivian interjects, giving her hair a prissy toss over one shoulder. “You have a very cushy life. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so eager to give up such a golden opportunity.”  
  
I roll my eyes so far back into my head that I’m surprised they don’t fall into my skull. She doesn’t even get it. She’s always been branded as the elegant, classy one. Nobody thinks it’s okay to smack _her_ ass. “You’re right Viv, getting fondled and catcalled on national television every week is such a blessing,” I reply, glancing upward and lifting my hands in mock prayer.  
  
My mother slams her fist down on the coffee table, sending an ornate glass vase crashing to the ground. “Cut it out,” she spits. “This thankless attitude is very unbecoming, Lilian.”  
  
The outburst startles me but I refuse to cry in front of her. My mother sees weakness in pain and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how lost I feel right now. Instead, I rise from the couch and walk swiftly to the guest room. As soon as I’m not facing them, I allow myself to break down, angry tears spilling down my cheeks as I slam the door behind me. I feel a liberating sense of relief peeling the tight spandex from my body and swiping my heavy makeup off. Never again.  
  
Throwing my suitcase on the bed, I pull out the baggiest cardigan and most shapeless dress that I can find. It feels relieving to be able to cover up, but I feel a twinge of shame watching myself in the mirror as I slip the clothing over my head. My body has felt foreign to me lately, like it belongs to all the men who’ve made a sport out of leering at it.  
  
I shove the rest of my belongings into my luggage and fling the door open, storming past the living room towards the foyer. “I’m staying at a hotel for the night,” I mutter as I fumble with my keys. “I need to clear my head.”  
  
“Don’t bother coming back.”  
  
Caught off guard, I stop in my tracks and swivel around. My mother swirls a glass of her favorite chardonnay in her hand, sipping from it casually as she regards me. The broken vase still lays at her feet. “That’s right. If you’re going to abandon everything I worked so hard to build for you and your sister, then you’re not welcome in my house,” she simpers.  
  
I try to speak but I’m dumbfounded. My eyes flicker briefly to Vivian, who turns her nose up at me. I glance at my mother and she makes a shooing motion with her free hand. “Either go back to your apartment in Kanto or make use of all the money I earned you and find somewhere else to stay.”  
  
The lump in my throat from earlier is now decidedly suffocating me. I consider trying to say something to remedy the situation, but I’m not even sure if I want to. I take a deep breath and hang my spare key on the wall hook, respecting the last wish of my mother’s that I ever plan to honor by walking right out the door.  
  
  
***  
  
The coffee shop reeks of burnt beans and synthetic vanilla, but at least it’s quiet. Petalburg is a small city with not much in the way of good cafes. I take a tentative sip of my latte, wincing as the heat singes my tongue. My ears perk up as I hear my name coming from the old radio perched on top of a warped wooden bookcase. Paranoia washes over me and I glance around the room, panicking at the thought of someone recognizing me. If I could have it my way, I would make myself invisible. That would solve just about all of my problems.  
  
Luckily, most patrons seem too engrossed in their own business to pay me any mind. I sigh and sink further into my seat at the bar, tugging at the sleeves of my sweater. My eyes still burn from mascara bleeding into them when I was crying. I rub them with balled fists and bite my lip.  
  
This is the first moment I’ve had alone since my outburst at the Saffron City Contest Hall. Security held me until that prick decided he wasn’t going to press charges, then they passed me onto my assistant. She watched me like a Pidgeot on the plane ride home, never taking her eyes off me. I don’t blame her. With the way I was acting, it probably seemed like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown.  
  
My breath hitches as I begin to consider what my next move should be. I wasn’t exactly planning on assaulting someone on live television and tanking my career today. Vivian and my mother were right; I know enough about show business to recognize that I could bounce back from this. My PR team would spin some female empowerment narrative and I’d be hosting Contests again in no time, probably with an even bigger fan base than before.  
  
But that’s not what I want. That’s not what I’ve wanted for a long time.  
  
On the other hand, I don’t know what I want. When I was three, I wanted to be a firetruck, and now that seems a tad unrealistic. When I was seven, I wanted to be a teacher. I suppose I could go to college; I certainly have enough money and free time. When I was ten, I wanted to be a Pokemon Trainer like every other ten year old kid in Hoenn. Scratch that- every other kid on the planet. But by that age, my mother was already grooming me to become a star.  
  
My thoughts are interrupted by the noisy chime of the cafe door as it swings open. A lean, grassy-haired man strides up to the bar, dropping a thick stack of flyers on the counter as he settles onto a stool.  
  
“You want your usual, Wally?” the barista asks, wiping the inside of a mug down with the bottom of his shirt.  
  
The man- Wally, I suppose- flashes a thumbs up as he rustles through a sleek messenger bag. He pulls out a crumpled bill and leans down to set the bag gingerly on the floor. His eyes meet mine as he rises back up. “Damn, I have no idea how you’re wearing a sweater in this heat,” he chuckles, fanning himself as though just the thought is making him sweat. “If I were you I’d be sweltering.”  
  
I shoot him a withering look. “Mind your own business.”  
  
Wally blinks at me and shrugs, turning away to swipe the to-go cup the barista places in front of him. Feeling annoyed and self-conscious, I hug my cardigan closer to my body and lift my own cup to take a drink. I’m about to get up and move to a different area of the cafe before the writing on the stack of flyers catches my attention.  
  
“You’re looking for a travel companion?” I blurt out, a twinge of red rushing to my cheeks as I realize I actually verbalized the thought.  
  
“What happened to minding your own business?” Wally replies with a sarcastic edge, swiveling to face me again. A peculiar shiver runs down my spine as our eyes meet. His are an honest, icy blue, and I am struck with a fleeting suspicion that they could see through all of my bullshit if they wanted to.  
  
“I’m thinking of becoming a Trainer,” I say casually, averting his gaze and running a finger along the edge of my mug. What I don’t tell him is that the idea entered my mind only a few minutes ago. It’s a tempting idea if I’ve ever had one; doing something with my life that requires more than a stage presence and a nice rack.  
  
Wally raises an eyebrow as he smirks into his cup. “I appreciate the interest, but I haven’t been a newbie Trainer for over a decade. I’m not exactly dying to travel gym to gym with some teenybopper.”  
  
I grit my teeth. “I’m not a _teenybopper,_ I’m twenty two.”  
  
He offers me another shrug, which by now I’ve ascertained is his default response when he doesn’t know what to say. Feeling irritated by this whole conversation, I turn my back to him and finish the last few sips of my latte. Wally pushes off the bar and peels several flyers from the stack, leaving his bag and half-drunk coffee behind. I presume he’s popped out to post his ad on the bulletin boards outside, and I can’t say I don’t appreciate the reprieve.  
  
Other than me and the barista, who’s taking his break in the back, the coffee shop is empty for the time being. I pull my laptop out of my suitcase and begin searching for a hotel room. I don’t feel comfortable here anymore, and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes in that’ll recognizes me. The baggy clothing and lack of my usual wig helps, but my face is still my face and it’s plastered on every television in Hoenn, Kanto, and probably all the other regions right now.  
  
Suddenly, I hear something moving underneath me and I freeze. Maybe a Pokemon got into the cafe somehow? I shudder at the thought of a stray Wurmple finding its way inside. Those things give me the creeps. I glance down but see nothing.  
  
I hear it, though. My eyes dart to the bag that Wally left behind. Upon closer inspection, it’s definitely rustling. As I reach down and pull the main pocket open, I’m abruptly blinded by a brilliant light.  
  
Loud crackling and crunching sounds burst forth from the bag and I don’t know whether to cover my eyes or ears. For some reason I find myself holding my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. The next thing I know, a baby Pokemon is staring up at me with pieces of its shell stuck to its head. Specifically, a baby Ralts. It smiles at me before letting out a bleary yawn.  
  
Before I can comprehend what’s just happened, I hear a distinctive “ _Fuck_ ,” emanate from the doorway.  
  
I turn and see Wally looking between me and the Ralts, arms crossed and jaw clenched. The Ralts promptly starts crying and hops up and down in place, reaching for me with desperate, flailing arms. I’m no expert on Pokemon, but something tells me this one thinks I’m its mother.


	2. Chapter 2

Wally looks like he’s going to be sick. He storms over to me and the sobbing Ralts, scooping it up along with his belongings and beckoning me to follow him. Ralts is now shrieking at a frequency that puts my outburst at the Contest Hall to shame, wriggling in Wally’s arms as it strains to break free. I stuff my laptop in my suitcase and awkwardly shuffle out of the cafe.  
  
Once we’re outside, Wally settles onto a bench and sets the Ralts down. It immediately makes a beeline towards me, clinging to my leg like its life depends on it.  
  
“That’s what I figured,” Wally grunts, rubbing his temples. “She’s imprinted on you.”  
  
“Like….she thinks I’m her mom?” I ask, mildly horrified. I lean down to give Ralts a clumsy pat, which seems to calm her down to a quivering sniffle.  
  
“Exactly,” Wally grimaces, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this. She wasn’t due for another few days.”  
  
“I mean you c-can have her back,” I stutter, throwing my hands in the air. I have no interest in taking some random dude's baby Pokemon.  
  
Wally huffs and leans back into the bench, pushing the sleeves of his white button-up to his elbows. “There’s no getting around it, she’s already too attached to you.” he replies. “Unfortunately, that means I’m going to have to stick around for awhile.”  
  
The color drains from my face. “What do you mean? I don’t want that.”  
  
He shoots me an irritated look. “I’m not exactly looking forward to it myself, but I can’t leave her. She’s my Gallade’s daughter. He gave me her egg and I promised I would raise her.”  
  
“Your Gallade’s daughter?” I echo, feeling dazed. This whole situation feels surreal, like I’m trapped in a bad nightmare in which I’m doomed to repeat the same parenting mistakes my mother made, only with a Pokemon.  
  
Wally nods. “I traveled with Nikolai for years before he settled down in Sinnoh with a Gardevoir. This Ralts is one of their children.”  
  
“Well, you can seriously just take her,” I say, gently swinging my leg in an attempt to get Ralts to let go. The effort is in complete vain; she grips to me like, well.....like a baby would to their mother.  
  
“I’m telling you, it’s not going to work.” Wally replies. All of a sudden, his eyes narrow as he scans me up and down. “Wait a second, are you that girl on the news that _assaulted_ that guy?” he asks, a look of horror spreading fast across his face.  
  
I freeze, my heart dropping right into my stomach. As if on cue, a group of girls with Skitty on leashes walk by us, pointing at me and whispering in hushed tones. Wally groans, burying his head in his hands. “That’s just great, she’s going to be raised by a violent whackjob.”  
  
“Excuse me,” I snap, leaning slightly forward to grab his attention. “That was self-defense, I’m not some sort of psycho.”  
  
“Sure,” Wally mutters, peeking through his fingers at me. I look away, rolling the sleeves of my sweater up as I feel myself begin to perspire. The summer heat plus my increasing anxiety is not a winning combination, that’s for sure.  
  
Wally sighs and rises from the bench, cracking his knuckles as he does so. “So it’s Lilian, right? I remember from the news.”  
  
I confirm his suspicious with a terse smile, tracing circles around a dandelion with my foot as I try to maintain my composure. I’m beginning to realize that this probably won’t be the last time people recognize me, and it’s making me panic. Ralts hugs my leg tighter, and it occurs to me that she might be able to sense my anxiety. I guess Pokemon can be kind of cool like that.  
  
“And you said earlier that you’re planning on becoming a Trainer?” Wally presses.  
  
“Well up until this morning, I was planning on silently suffering as a master of Contest ceremonies like always.” I grumble, biting the inside of my cheek. “But slapping a guy on live television kind of made becoming a Trainer the next best thing.”  
  
He nods like he understands, but I know he doesn’t. Nobody does. As an afterthought, I add “If I had known that this predicament was going to be the alternative to staying in showbusiness, I might’ve just let myself be groped.”  
  
Wally exhales sharply and shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt underneath him. “Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do.” he gripes. I expect him to say more but he remains silent. We stand there like that for a while at what I would consider a stalemate. Clearly neither of us want to travel with the other. But he won’t leave this Ralts, and this Ralts won’t leave me.  
  
“Going somewhere?” Wally asks suddenly, gesturing at my suitcase.  
  
“Yeah,” I reply, glancing in the direction of my mother’s house. “My circumstances necessitate me finding a hotel room for the night.”  
  
Wally jerks his head in disagreement, reaching behind him to gather his belongings. “That won’t be necessary,” he says. “My folks are out of town this week so the guest room is still available. You and the baby should stay with me tonight.”  
  
“No,” I snap, furrowing my brow and taking an instinctive step back. “I don’t even know you, dude.”  
  
Ralts beckons for me to pick her up, but Wally leans forward to scoop her into his arms as he shoots me an annoyed look. “Trust me, I would just take her if I could,” he laments. “But like I said before, she’s already imprinted on you and won’t take too kindly to being separated from you.” Ralts’ bottom lip begins to tremble at the thought, fat tears springing from her eyes.  
  
I pause and take a hard look at both of them. Wally’s right; Ralts looks distraught even from just being in someone else’s arms. And Wally, bothersome as he is, doesn’t seem to be an _entirely_ terrible guy. Even so, I feel like I’m taking a massive risk. Men haven’t been too kind to me as of late.  
  
Wally sighs, beginning to walk in an unknown direction. “Please just come with me. I’d really rather not split you two up, even though you’re a bit of a nutcase.”  
  
I scoff, trailing him as I begin to protest his opinion of me. Ralts looks positively delighted that I’m following them. She grins at me over Wally’s shoulder, giggling like she knows the best kept secret in the whole world.  
  
  
******  
  
“Are you going to name her, or should I?” Wally asks from the kitchen, just barely audible over the intense sizzling of the stove . The smell of fresh vegetables wafts throughout the house, urging my stomach to rumble with pleasure.  
  
“Hm?” I call back to him absentmindedly, not quite sure what he even asked me in the first place. I stroll along the length of his living room, scanning the myriad of framed pictures that hang on the maroon walls. My mother would never display family photos in her soulless mansion of a home. They would ruin the decor.  
  
One picture in particular catches my attention. A man and a woman, all gussied up in their Sunday best, stand with their arms wrapped around a young boy. I stare at him for a few moments before I realize it’s Wally. Other than the mop of green hair, he looks completely different. Younger, sure. But it’s more than that. His looks sickly, like his bones could crack under the weight of a few feathers. His eyes are sunken in, dark circles rimming them. He’s slouched and looks rather small, even for a little kid.  
  
“I asked if you’re going to name Ralts,” Wally voices again, breaking my train of thought.  
  
“Uh yeah, I guess,” I respond, sneaking a sideways glance at him. He looks like a regular man to me, healthy and broad-shouldered, with at least half a foot on me height-wise. Annoyingly good posture, too. Nothing like the boy in the photo.  
  
“Well, what’s it gonna be? Please don’t choose something stupid.” Wally pleads in a low voice, leaving the kitchen with two steaming plates in his hand.  
  
I scowl at him, even though his back is facing me. “It won’t be stupid.”  
  
“I’ll believe it when I hear it,” Wally says as he sets the plates down on the dining room table. “You wouldn’t believe what some people name their Pokemon.”  
  
“Actually I would,” I remark, walking over to join him. “The Contest world is full of Fluffies and Sparkles.”  
  
Wally groans. “Arceus, that borders on abuse.”  
  
I offer him a tight-lipped smile, sitting down and scooting my chair closer to my plate. “I think I’ll name her Mira, if that’s okay. I’ve always liked that name.”  
  
He leans forward with his elbows on the table, eyeing Ralts who is snoozing on the couch in the living room. I suppose all the crying and screaming tired her out. She is only a few hours old, after all.  
  
“You don’t have to ask me for permission,” Wally mutters. “She’s your Pokemon now.”  
  
The sentiment makes me sweat, especially since he doesn’t sound too thrilled. I’m not really sure if I am, either. Becoming a trainer had crossed my mind, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast. And I certainly wasn’t expecting to be forced to travel with some random guy.  
  
“So, uh, where are your Pokemon?” I ask, not wanting to dwell on my unfortunate predicament. Wally clears his throat and rises from the table, striding over to his bag on the floor. He takes out a single Pokeball and tosses it into the air.  
  
A Roserade materializes in front of us, heavy lashes blinking as she adjusts to her surroundings. She extends her slender arms above her head, the two beautiful blooms that spring out of her hands reaching for the ceiling. When she finishes stretching, her gaze settle on me. She can’t be more than three feet tall, and yet she’s the most powerful presence in the room. This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest; if I’ve learned anything from my stint in the Contest world, it’s that beauty demands attention.  
  
“This is Cleo,” Wally says, rummaging in his bag for a Razz Berry. She happily swipes it from him, taking dainty bites until it’s all gone.  
  
I blink between the two of them. “That’s it? Is she the only one who’s willing to put up with you?”  
  
Cleo lets out a laugh muffled by one of her roses. Wally rolls his eyes. “No, she’s just the only one I’m travelling with at the moment,” he replies. “Since I’m not really training Pokemon anymore, I find it easier to just have one with me as I travel. She’s one of my oldest companions.”  
  
“Well it’s nice to meet you Cleo,” I say, giving her a small wave. “My name is Lilian.”  
  
Cleo waves back at me before turning her attention to Mira. Her red eyes light up as she glides over to the couch. She leans over to give Mira a soft peck on the cheek, leaving a pink lip print from her juicy snack. Wally smiles at the sight, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s the first smile I’ve seen from him since I met him.  
  
“Cleo’s been so excited to meet the baby, I swear she was even more impatient than I was for her to get here.” Wally says. He lowers himself cross-legged to the floor, all but beaming at his two Pokemon.  
  
But they aren’t his two Pokemon, are they? Mira is mine, no matter how much Wally and I wish it wasn’t that way. I suddenly feel as though I’m interrupting an intimate family moment and it makes me ill. The most intimate moment I’ve had with my mother and sister as of late was attending a red carpet event together. And they barely even spoke to me unless it was to borrow lipstick.  
  
I push myself up from the table and take my empty plate to the kitchen. “I’m going to turn in for the night, okay?” I mumble, giving the plate a quick rinse before I place it in the sink. The summer sky hasn’t even turned dark yet, but my lids are growing heavy- not from fatigue, but rather a familiar loneliness.  
  
Not looking away from Mira and Cleo, Wally gives me a thumbs up. “Sleep well. We’re going to get you your Trainer’s license first thing in the morning.”  
  
“Mhm,” I faintly respond, meandering down the hallway to my room. Maybe all of this won’t seem so bad tomorrow. For my sanity’s sake, I sure hope so.


	3. Chapter 3

Littleroot Laboratory isn’t quite what I imagined. For some reason I was expecting sleek metals and glass, but what looms in front of us is a very large, cozy-looking cottage. The roof is a sunny yellow with a door to match, and the walls are made of smooth cobblestone. I run my fingers across a few of the stones as Wally swings the worn brass knocker against the door. Mira is dozing off in his arms, not awake enough to object to not being in mine.  
  
The door swings open and we are greeted by a jolly man flashing us the widest smile I’ve ever seen. He is clad in bright red athletic gear, donning a floor-sweeping white lab coat over it all.  
  
“Wally Wakefield, as I live and breathe!” the man exclaims, the corners of his mouth reaching his ears as he claps Wally on the back. “How long has it been, man?”  
  
A broad smirk spreads across Wally’s face as he passes Mira off to me so he can go in for a proper hug. I tense up as I feel her stirring in my arms and I silently beg for her not to wake up. When she’s awake, she’s clingy, and I don’t know how to deal with clingy quite yet. The best I can manage is unconscious, and even that gives me anxiety.  
  
“Can’t have been that long ago. My 27th, maybe?” Wally replies, tapping two fingers against his temple as if to concentrate on remembering. To my immense relief, he takes Mira back as quickly as he gave her to me.  
  
“Must’ve been, must’ve been,” the man agrees. He turns to me and his eyes flash with a mischievous glint. “Do you want to introduce me to someone, Wally?”  
  
Wally shrugs. “ _Want_ to? That’s debatable.”  
  
I roll my eyes and extend my hand out for a shake. “Hi, I’m Lil-”  
  
“Wait a second,” the man interrupts, his gray eyes widening as he snaps his fingers. “You’re Lilian Meridian, aren’t you?” Then his face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, it can’t be. Her hair is a lot shorter, I think.”  
  
I groan inwardly, retracting my hand. “Yeah, that was a wig.”  
  
The man lets out a quick, deep laugh and slaps his hands together. “I knew I recognized you!” he declares, sounding oddly excited about the whole thing. “You were a total badass yesterday, giving that guy the verbal beatdown you did.”  
  
Wally vocalizes a disapproving tut and I feel heat rush to my cheeks. The man grabs my hand with both of his and gives it a vigorous shake. “I’m Professor Brendan Birch, but just call me Brendan,” he says, grinning at me with the boyishness of a small child. “It’s seriously a pleasure. You rock.”  
  
My embarrassment persists as I try to pull my hand away as politely as possible. “I think you’re the first person that’s held that opinion of me.”  
  
“Well, more people should.” Brendan replies. He glances between me and Wally with a mixture of amusement and intrigue evident on his face, which has been bronzed by the summer sun. “So what can I do for you two today?”  
  
“She needs a Trainer’s license.” Wally responds gruffly, stroking Mira’s head as she snuggles closer to his chest, still off in dreamland.  
  
Brendan raises an eyebrow, turning to swipe a clipboard from a nearby lab assistant and strolling over to a table with three perfectly spaced out Pokeballs. “You’re gonna be a Trainer, huh? That’s quite the second act.” he says to me over his shoulder.  
  
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, crossing my arms and fixing my gaze on the weathered hardwood. I’m not exactly living the dream at the moment.  
  
“Well, I’m sure you’re well aware you’ll need a Pokemon to travel with,” Brendan says. “We’ve got a Torchic, Mudkip, blah blah blah…” he trails off, rolling his eyes at the tired spiel.  
  
My eyes flash to Wally, who is looking more and more grumpy by the second. “Long story, but Mira here is Nikolai’s daughter and she’s going to be Lilian’s starter,” Wally remarks with a grimace that could scare off muggers and make babies cry.  
  
Brendan stands silent for a moment, scratching his head as he looks between the two of us. He startles me as he begins laughing hysterically, crossing his arms in front of him. “Mister Trust Issues is going to let you travel with Niko’s kid? Good one.”  
  
Wally inhales sharply, looking irritated. “Well I’m going _with_ them.”  
  
Uncomfortable and now feeling a bit faint, I shift back and forth on my feet as Brendan stares blankly at me. For a second I think he’s going to start laughing again, but instead he simply smiles. It’s a smile that annoys me for some odd reason. But then again, most men have been annoying me lately.  
  
“So I guess I’ll just be needing that license,” I pipe up, tugging at the neck of my sweater. This laboratory is beginning to feel claustrophobic.  
  
“Of course, of course,” Brendan replies smoothly, striding over to a rather large machine with a stack of blank plastic cards balancing on the top of it. “Any friend of Wally’s is a friend of mine, and I’m always happy to help my friends.” Brendan winks at me and then at Wally, who groans and hands Mira to me.  
  
“I’m going to the restroom,” Wally mutters, stalking off towards the rear end of the lab.  
  
Mira’s eyes shoot open and I feel my whole body grow rigid. She peers around the room curiously, giggling as Brendan sticks his tongue out at her. Her demeanor abruptly changes when he attempts to grab her from me. She shrieks and flails about in my arms as I struggle to hold her still. The last thing I need is to drop her on the floor and have her head crack open. Wally would murder me.  
  
Brendan takes a step back, hands up in surrender. “She’s pretty attached to you, isn’t she? Wally must hate that.”  
  
I sigh, biting my lip as I glance down at Mira. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”  
  
“Don’t take it too personally,” Brendan remarks, craning his neck to look behind me before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Wally’s got a tough exterior but he’s a total softie at heart.”  
  
I snort, completely unable to believe that. Before I can respond, Wally walks up. “Did I hear my name?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at Brendan.  
  
“You must’ve been imagining things!” Brendan exclaims, patting Wally on the shoulder. He motions for me to sit down in the chair opposite the now roaring machine, which is vibrating and feels hot to the touch. Mira pouts as I hand her to Wally, but thankfully doesn’t start to cry. I think she can sense he’s got a connection to her, even if he isn’t the one she imprinted on. Nope, that lucky gal would be me.  
  
Brendan rattles off a list of questions to me, punching my answers into the machine. Before long, he’s taking my picture for the front of the license. A lump forms in my throat when the flash goes off. It occurs to me that this is the first photo taken of me in a long time in which I’m not Lilian Meridian, Master of Contest Ceremonies. Now, I’m just Lilian.  
  
Soon enough, the machine spits out a glossy Trainer’s license. I squint at my photo, barely even recognizing myself. Brendan gives me a leather case for the license and I stuff it in the pocket of my sweater.  
  
“Are we about done here?” Wally asks, checking his sleek black watch. “I’d love to catch up, but we’ve got quite a bit of errands to run today to prepare for travelling.”  
  
Brendan shakes his head, wagging his finger at the two of us. “We are absolutely not finished here. I have a very important question for Lilian.”  
  
“Me?” I ask, finding myself worried that he’s going to ask me on a date. I was hoping that dressing a little less flashy would also help deter men, but maybe not. I am utterly flabbergasted as Brendan lowers himself onto one knee, digging around in the pocket of his lab coat.  
  
“Lilian Meridian, will you be my rival?” he asks in a somber tone, pulling out a Pokeball and releasing a rambunctious Treecko. Mira squeals and jumps out of my arms, taking to chasing the Treecko around the lab.  
  
“Arceus, Brendan.” Wally groans, slapping his palm against his forehead. “What are we, ten?”  
  
I breathe a gigantic sigh of relief as Brendan gets up off the ground. “Come on Wally, every new Trainer needs a rival!” he cries out, hands flying to his hips. “Or did you forget that _we_ used to be rivals?”  
  
To my amusement, Wally blushes and looks away. “That’s not the point,” he remarks, scuffing the heel of his white sneakers against the floor. “You being her rival doesn’t even make sense. You’re a Professor now. You beat the league, for Arceus sake!”  
  
Brendan shakes his head, pointing to the Treecko that Mira is chasing. Mira is laughing like an absolute lunatic, having the time of her life running around. To my surprise, I find myself cracking a smile at the whole display.  
  
“I’m doing field research for the next year or so and I’ll be travelling with Renzo here.” Brendan says, grinning at the two scampering all over the place. “Thought starting with a new team instead of bringing the gang along would give me a fresh perspective.”  
  
Wally nods, bringing a hand to his chin. “Oh right, I forgot you were doing that. I guess we’ll all be travelling at the same time, then.”  
  
“Why don’t you travel with us?” I say, perhaps a little too quickly. I may or may not be desperate to not be alone with Wally and my surrogate daughter.  
  
Brendan smiles warmly at me, shoving his hands inside his coat pockets. “That would be a blast, but I’ll be travelling back here pretty frequently. I’ll definitely meet up with you two when I can, though.”  
  
“You really want to suffer through being a newbie Trainer’s rival?” Wally interjects, scrunching his nose up at the thought. I flip him off, but to be fair, I’m not really sure why Brendan wants to do it either.  
  
“You’re such a cynic, Wakefield.” Brendan admonishes, nudging me gently with his elbow. “It’ll be fun, won’t it Lilian?”  
  
“I guess so,” I reply weakly.  
  
“Well it’s settled then,” Brendan declares, catching Renzo by the tail and lifting him onto his shoulder. “Now, I think it’s time for our first battle!”  
  
My blood runs cold. “What did you say?”  
  
“If you’re really gonna be rivals, you have to battle.” Wally says, looking at bit nervous at the prospect of me battling with his precious darling. I don’t blame him in the slightest.  
  
“I can’t do that, not yet.” I stammer, looking down at Mira. She beams up at me, her pink eyes glimmering with adoration for me. Soon enough she’ll realize that I don’t deserve any of it.  
  
“Come on, I’ll make sure to match your skill level!” Brendan exclaims, offering a reassuring smile. “Renzo here won’t be much stronger than Mira at this stage.”  
  
“It _would_ be good practice, battling someone we know won’t hurt Mira too much.” Wally admits, scratching the back of his head.  
  
I want to object, but something in the pit of my stomach tells me that it would be in vain. Whether I want to be or not, I’m a Trainer now. Trainers have rivals. And Trainers battle with Pokemon. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before nodding slowly. “Fine, let’s do it.”


	4. Chapter 4

Not once during my four years as Master of Contest Ceremonies have I ever been on this side of a battlefield.  
  
I’m accustomed to standing on the sidelines, introducing the coordinators and remarking on various battle conditions. Never have I been this involved, this _invested_ in the action. We all know that if battles are taken too far, they can seriously injure or even kill a Pokemon. But I’ve never actually had to take that chance, to make that bet. I doubt Brendan lacks restraint, but perhaps I lack the judgement to know when to call it quits.  
  
“Have you ever used a Pokemon for anything before?” Wally asks me, standing where I’d normally be on the sidelines and wringing his hands. He’s sweating profusely, and something tells me it’s not just because it’s blazing hot outside. I know he’s got the same exact fear as I do.  
  
“My old assistant had an Espeon that would help me test the lighting equipment at Contest Halls,” I call back to him, eyeing Mira as she tests her psychic power out on some pebbles. She squeals in delight as she manages to float them several inches off the ground.  
  
“Ah, so you’re used to handling Psychic types then?” Brendan asks from the other side of the battlefield. He sheds his lab coat and passes it off to one of the lab techs wandering around the premises. She and I lock eyes before she scurries away. She definitely recognized me, but at least she didn’t say anything.  
  
“I wouldn’t say I’m used to it,” I mutter. Wally buries his head in his hands, letting out a muffled groan. I turn to glare at him. “Relax, I’m not a total idiot. Mira’s going to be fine.”  
  
“I only believe you because Brendan’s the one battling you,” Wally replies, turning towards Brendan. “Go easy on her, okay?”  
  
Brendan winks and salutes Wally. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Wakefield. Have I ever failed you before?”  
  
Wally rolls his eyes. “I suppose not.”  
  
I raise a tentative hand in the air. “Can we get this show on the road before my I lose my nerve?”  
  
Wally and Brendan nod in unison, and Brendan reaches for the Pokeball he recalled Renzo into. It glints as a beam of light hits it mid-air, and Renzo materializes a few yards away from me. His beady eyes dart back and forth, eventually landing on Mira.  
  
“Uh, get ready to fight Mira,” I say, feeling awkward and out of place. Who the hell am I to be commanding a Pokemon? Mira cocks her head at me, seemingly confused. Once she spots Renzo, though, her whole face contorts and she assumes a battle stance. If she wasn’t a whopping 24 hours old, perhaps she would look more like a threat and less like a baby trying to prove she’s a big girl.  
  
“You’re sure she’s not too young to be battling?” I ask, my stomach doing backflips. Maybe I can still get out of this.  
  
Brendan waves off the concern. “She’s fine. Unless they’re born with some sort of deficiency, most Pokémon hatch totally battle-ready.”  
  
“That being said, be _careful_ ,” Wally warns. I almost start trying to reassure him more, but that plan goes out the window when our eyes meet. His gaze makes me feel naked, exposed. I don’t like it one bit.  
  
“Mira, r-ready?” I stutter, pointing at Renzo. Mira nods enthusiastically, tiny hands on her tiny hips. Renzo lets out a low growl and I nearly stop breathing as he charges towards Mira with reckless abandon.  
  
“Renzo, use Absorb!” Brendan exclaims, punching the air with a strangely contagious sort of enthusiasm. Renzo’s slender frame begins to glow a faint green, as does Mira’s. She shudders, plopping down on the ground as Renzo drains her energy.  
  
“Confusion!” I shout, scared shitless that if I don’t get the upper hand soon, something will happen to Mira and Wally will be pissed. Something tells me I don’t want to get on his bad side. At least, not more so than I already am.  
  
Mira slowly stands back up and begins doing a little dance. Brendan chuckles and I raise an eyebrow at the display. I can see Wally shaking his head in my peripheral. After a few seconds of random twirls and steps, Mira’s hands move to her head and a deep purple aura starts to radiate from her pink horn in every direction.  
  
Renzo falls to one knee, wincing from the attack. Brendan is grinning like a lunatic, rubbing his hands together as though he can’t wait to see what happens next. “Knock the wind outta her with Pound!” he exclaims.  
  
“Dodge that!” I counter quickly, but Mira’s response time is too delayed. She manages to get mostly out of Renzo’s way, but his tail hits her square in the back, sending her tumbling towards me. My breath hitches and my eyes flash to Wally. To my surprise, he doesn’t seem upset. He’s making some sort of odd gesture at me, twirling his finger around and around next to his head. It takes me a moment before I realize what he’s getting at.  
  
“Mira, use Confuse Ray!” I exclaim, and Wally gives me a nod of approval. Mira huffs dramatically as she picks herself up off the ground, but manifests a flashing white ball of light nonetheless. The orb floats towards Renzo at a leisurely pace before rapidly whirling around him at whiplash-inducing speed.  
  
Brendan’s eyes grow wide and his smile grows wider, despite Renzo now being thoroughly discombobulated. “She’s got an egg move? That’s so damn cool.”  
  
“Nikolai’s partner passed it down,” Wally states, an uptick of pride evident in his voice.  
  
I don’t have the faintest idea why, but I feel a little proud myself. Egg moves are common in Pokemon bred to compete in Contests specifically because they’re unique and useful. It’s kind of cool that my Pokemon has one.  
  
 _My_ Pokemon. The notion terrifies me.  
  
Before I can descend further into terror, however, I hear something in the near distance that gives me pause. Wally, Brendan and I turn towards the source of the noise. It takes a moment, but a gigantic van becomes visible as it screeches into Littleroot Town. My heart drops as I see the logo plastered on the side of the van.  
  
Brendan recalls Renzo into his Pokeball, a worried look spreading fast across his face. “Mira, come here,” I say with as much composure as I can muster, kneeling on the ground with outstretched arms. She happily accepts and embraces me, cuddling into the folds of my sweater. I consider trying to run back into the lab and avoid any confrontation, but I know that would just add more fuel to the fire.  
  
“Who the hell tipped off the media?” I ask in a low voice. It doesn’t take more than 5 seconds to spot the lab tech from before, holding a phone in her hands and looking like she’s about to shit herself.  
  
“You’re fired,” Brendan says simply, striding up to the girl and snatching her badge. She lets out a meek squeal and scurries off, but not before snapping my photo.  
  
“Go to hell,” I spit at her, my jaw clenched so tight it could crack.  
  
Meanwhile, Wally seems totally oblivious to what’s going on. “So like, a reporter is here?”  
  
On cue, the van stops just short of the lab and door slides open, allowing a man with a gigantic black camera to jump out. Behind him is a peppy young reporter, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she bounds up to me. I want to strangle her with that stupid little scarf tied around her neck.  
  
I can’t even take a step towards the lab before the reporter begins bombarding me with questions. “Lilian Meridian, what brings such a big celebrity like you to a small town like Littleroot?” she asks in a way that makes me want to knock her out cold. “Is this Ralts your Pokemon? Were you just battling? Is Professor Birch your boyfriend? What about this other gentleman?”  
  
All I can do is keep my head down and my mouth shut. That’s how this works. “No comment,” I reply smoothly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my sunglasses. I welcome the dark barrier between me and the rest of the world.  
  
With the self-awareness of a weird uncle wasted out of his mind on Delibird Day, Wally marches up to the reporter and sticks his mouth right in front of the microphone. “Uh, I'm not her boyfriend," he says with disdain. "It’s a long story but we just met yesterday and we’re going to travel-”  
  
“I think what you meant to say is _no comment,_ ” I hiss, grabbing his arm and jerking him away from the reporter and the camera. Brendan, thank Arceus, seems to be more in tune with what’s happening. He shields me and Wally with his body and guides us back into the lab, expertly deflecting questions with a smile that doesn’t falter, not even once. That’s how I used to attempt to interact with the media, but I have zero patience for it all anymore.  
  
Eventually we manage to get the door closed behind us, although that doesn’t stop the cameraman from trying to film us through the windows. Mira is now on the verge of tears because of the whole situation, her lip quivering and body trembling. Brendan hands me a Pokeball to recall her into and instructs the lab techs to close all the blinds. Once that’s accomplished, he leads us towards the back of the building. “I don’t think they’re going to let up anytime soon,” he says, unclipping a Pokeball from his belt. “You should take Gloriana back to Petalburg. It’s a quick flight.”  
  
“Who?” I ask, feeling weak and a little dizzy. It’s just now hitting me that I haven’t even eaten anything today. Brendan opens a door that leads to a grassy, unkempt back area of the laboratory grounds and tosses the Pokeball into the air. A Tropius materializes in front of us, flapping her leafy wings and stomping her large feet. I’m almost tempted to grab a banana from her neck, but now doesn’t really feel like an appropriate time.  
  
Brendan helps me and Wally onto Gloriana’s back, and sends us off with a salute. “Sorry about all of this,” he laments. “I’ll check up on you guys later.”  
  
“Not your fault,” I mumble, my voice lost in the stream of Gloriana’s high-pitched cries and the wind she kicks up with her wings. Without having much of a choice otherwise, I wrap my arms around Wally’s waist as we prepare to take off. We lurch forward in a violent manner as Gloriana lifts off the ground, but it only takes a moment for any turbulence to settle down.  
  
Wally doesn’t even wait until we’re at cruising altitude to start arguing with me. “I didn’t appreciate the way you cut me off back there,” he yells over the sound of whipping wind, sounding irritated. “It was a little rude.”  
  
I glare at the back of his head. “Well I didn’t appreciate you giving them material.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wally asks, turning his head as much as he can to look at me. “They were trying to imply we were dating and I denied it.”  
  
Arceus, is this dude serious? “You aren’t supposed to say _anything_ to reporters,” I grunt, tightening my grip around his waist. “They twist your words and edit the crap out of clips and audio to fit their narrative.”  
  
Wally blinks at me in confusion. “They do that?”  
  
I groan, looking away from him. “Yes, Wally. It’s how being in the public eye works.”  
  
“That…..that sucks.” he says. To my surprise, he sounds slightly outraged.  
  
Gloriana touches down right in front of Wally’s house, settling on the ground so we can dismount. I let go of Wally and slide down Gloriana’s leg, swiping a rather big banana on the way. “You think it sucks now?” I ask Wally, unpeeling the banana with steady fingers as I walk towards the front door. “Just wait until tonight’s news.”


	5. Chapter 5

Wally stares slack-jawed at the television, eyes darting back and forth as he tries to make sense of what he’s watching. In an overly chipper voice, the newscaster explains to him that he’s my new boyfriend. She also explains that I love his biceps, as evident by me grabbing one in the slo-mo clip being played on the screen. Lastly, she speculates that Wally and I are travelling somewhere tropical- perhaps Alola, she guesses- for a romantic vacation getaway.  
  
I can’t help but snicker at the look on his face. It’s priceless. Wally glares at me as I dissolve into a fit of giggles, only stopping to munch on the homemade popcorn we made a few minutes prior. And by we, I mean Wally, because I can’t cook a damn thing without burning it.  
  
“That’s not funny, it’s….it’s slanderous,” Wally sulks, crossing his arms in front of him and sinking further back into the couch. Cleo, who is seated between us, gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder with her blue bloom. Mira rests in my lap, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep.  
  
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping a single tear from my eye while trying my best to hold back more laughter. “You just look horrified and it’s kind of hilarious.”  
  
Wally lets out a huff. “And you’re _not_ horrified by that whole broadcast?”  
  
I shrug, plucking a single piece of popcorn out of the bowl. “I’m not thrilled, but I’m used to this shit,” I reply. “You’ll have to get used to it too if you really want to travel together.”  
  
“Honestly, if not for Mira I would just walk away now,” Wally grumbles, snatching the popcorn bowl out of my lap and angrily shoving a handful into his mouth. As an afterthought, he adds “We should like, sue that news station or something.”  
  
I chuckle, swiping the remote to flip through the other channels. “Good luck with that.”  
  
Wally sighs and rolls an unpopped kernel around between his fingers. “Anyways, the plan is to leave tomorrow morning once everyone’s had breakfast.”  
  
“And where exactly are we headed?” I ask, settling on a game show where contestants try to guess a supermodel’s favorite Pokemon.  
  
“I mean, the first gym is in Rustboro City,” Wally replies, grabbing the remote from me and switching the channel to some documentary about Eeveelutions. “You’re still wanting to challenge the gyms, right?”  
  
I bite the inside of my cheek. I never really _wanted_ any of this.  
  
Silence hangs in the air like a damp, heavy fog. Wally frowns and turns off the television. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”  
  
His comment makes me feel strangely self-conscious. “I don’t know what you want from me,” I snap, shooting him a dirty look. “My career just tanked yesterday and now I have a fucking surrogate child to take care of all of a sudden. Not to mention a travel companion who isn’t exactly a cup of tea.”  
  
Wally looks like he’s about to start arguing with me, but Cleo places her hand gingerly on his. He inhales sharply and closes his eyes. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but I think we can make the most of it.”  
  
“How do you mean?” I mumble, looking down as I notice Mira waking up. She rises in my lap, outstretching her arms before hopping off the couch and investigating Wally’s living room.  
  
“Well for one, you’ll get to become a Trainer and maybe not hate that as much as being in showbusiness,” Wally says, the smallest of smiles registering on his face as he watches Mira toddle across the carpet to inspect a Pikachu plushie. “And as for me, I’ll still be able to travel through Hoenn like I wanted.”  
  
I fold my arms across my chest. “Yeah, what’s that all about anyways?” Re-living the glory days or something?”  
  
Wally snorts. “Not really. I spent the past three years travelling through Kalos and Sinnoh, and I wanted to come back to Hoenn to raise Mira.”  
  
For some reason, my eyes flash to the family photo I noticed on the wall yesterday. The sickly, feeble boy stares back at me. “If you were really as sick as you seem in that picture, you must’ve not been able to travel much when you were younger,” I say, pointing at the photo.  
  
I get the immediate sense that I said something horribly wrong. Wally flinches and Cleo lets out a delicate gasp, ebony eyelashes blinking rapidly. Wally’s entire expression darkens, in stark contrast to his fierce, icy eyes that are boring into mine. “That’s really none of your business.” he says in a flat voice. He sounds calm enough, but I can tell he’s restraining himself.  
  
“Oh um, I’m sorry-” I start, before the ringing of a cell phone interrupts me. Thank Arceus for that.  
  
Wally’s whole demeanor changes to one of embarrassment as glances at his phone screen. “Shit, it’s my mom. She probably saw the news report,” he says, heat rushing to his cheeks as he rises from the couch and lifts the phone to his ear. “This could take a while, maybe take Mira to the Pokemart and stock up on some Potions?” he asks over his shoulder as he scurries into the other room.  
  
I nod mutely, waving Mira over as I gather my things. It isn’t until I close the front door behind me that I realize I’ve been holding my breath. As air rushes out of my lungs, I feel an immense sense of relief. Clearly I ruffled Wally’s feathers.  
  
The Pokemart is less than a five minute walk from Wally’s house. I keep my head down as I trudge along, not wanting to attract any attention. Mira scampers behind me, stopping every few steps to quite literally smell the roses. Eventually I scoop her up in my arms, not wanting this to turn into a two hour excursion. Mira pouts, twirling a rosebud round and round in her little hands.  
  
When we reach the Pokemart, I set Mira down while I grab as many potions as I can carry. The checkout girl scans them each at the speed of a Slugma and I try my hardest not to snap at her. I count out the appropriate amount of bills from the wad of cash I’ve been carrying around in my pocket, and the girl hands me a large plastic bag overflowing with my potions in return.  
  
As I exit the store and begin heading back to Wally’s, someone taps me on the shoulder. I flinch from the sudden touch but turn around, finding myself face to face with a smiling teenage boy.  
  
“Can I help you?” I ask, silently begging Arceus that this dude doesn’t recognize me.  
  
It appears that my prayers have been answered. The boy’s smile widens as he points to Mira, seemingly oblivious to my former celebrity status. “That’s a real cute Ralts ya got there. Any chance you’d be down for a battle?”  
  
“Uh, I’m not really in the mood kid,” I respond, but Mira’s eyes widen at the proposal and she begins jumping up and down with excitement.  
  
The boy chuckles and fishes a Pokeball out of his backpack. “She sure seems to feel differently,” he remarks. “Just a quick one-on-one?”  
  
I want nothing more than to just go back to Wally’s and watch some trashy television, but I don’t have the heart to squelch Mira’s enthusiasm. “Fine, just a quick one though,” I concede. Mira rushes to hug my leg, giving it grateful kisses all over.  
  
“Absolutely,” the boy assures me, pointing to the outskirts of town in the distance. “We better not cause a scene in the middle of town, though.”  
  
“Fine by me,” I mutter, following him to the edge of Route 102. The last thing I want is an audience of townspeople watching me try to bumble my way through being a Trainer.  
  
The sun is just beginning to set, casting a hazy afterglow over the grassy terrain. The boy positions himself several yards away from me, leaving enough room for a proper battle to take place. “Winner takes 500 Pokedollars?” the boy calls out from across the way.  
  
“Um yeah, whatever,” I respond back to him. I have at least ten times that just on hand.  
  
The boy nods and throws his Pokeball into the air. Mira assumes her extremely adorable battle stance as her opponent materializes in front of her. Once I get a good look at the boy’s Pokemon, my heart drops.  
  
“What the hell?” I ask, my blood boiling. “That’s a fucking Poochyena.”  
  
“And?” the boy asks, fluttering his eyelashes at me. The Poochyena lets out a menacing growl, sending Mira into a fit of tears.  
  
“Oh fuck you, you knew my Ralts wouldn’t be able to do any damage to it,” I spit, reaching for Mira’s Pokeball and holding it out. “Come back, Mira.”  
  
A shit-eating grin spreads wide across the boy’s face as he wags a finger at me. “You already agreed to the battle, and I want a piece of that massive wad of cash you had out earlier,” he taunts.  
  
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I can’t technically forfeit a battle that hasn’t started. Those are the League rules, and if he reports me I could lose my license.  
  
“Mira, use Confuse Ray!” I shout as quickly as I can, hoping to delay the inevitable. Sensing my urgency, Mira sends a dizzying ray of light straight at the Poochyena. The Pooycheyna stumbles around for a moment, snapping at the air with its teeth. I instruct Mira to dodge any attacks the best she can. I can only forfeit the battle once she takes damage, but something tells me it’s going to be a OHKO. Wally’s going to murder me.  
  
Eventually, the Poochyena gets its bearings and charges straight towards Mira. I cringe and close my eyes, prepared to concede the moment it’s legal. My fists clench as I hear the boy burst into nasty, borderline psychopathic laughter.  
  
All of a sudden, I feel the ground begin to shake underneath me. I gasp as my knees hit the floor, hands reaching out to break my fall. My eyes fly open as I frantically scan the battlefield for Mira, assuming that the Poochyena straight up pummeled her into the ground. What I see instead shocks and amuses me.  
  
A Trapinch stands proudly between Mira and the Poochyena, hands and feet planted firm in the earth. The boy cries out and rushes into the middle of the field, recalling the Poochyena into its Pokeball. “What the fuck?” he shouts at me, glaring at the Trapinch who is now doing a victory dance along with Mira.  
  
I breath a gigantic sigh of relief, and begin to chuckle. “That’s what I call divine intervention, you little asshole.”  
  
The boy curses under his breath and flips me off as he skulks away. “Whatever, bitch.”  
  
Technically he's the one who forfeited, but I’m too shaken to demand any money from him. Instead I hold out my arms to Mira, who runs into them and embraces me tightly. “I’m sorry for being a moron,” I mumble into her shoulder, hugging her closer to me as I feel an odd moment of parental love blooming. I can’t believe I didn’t see that kid was trying to screw me over.  
  
I turn my attention to my rescuer, who gives me a gummy smile as she waddles over. “Thank you, that was so random but so awesome,” I say, giving the Trapinch a well-deserved pat on the head. “You must belong to a strong Trainer,” I add, rising to look around. They’ve got to be close by.  
  
The Trapinch shakes her head, and I narrow my eyes. Trapinch aren’t normally found in this area. “Oh, I thought you must belong to someone,” I say, giving her an awkward wave as I begin to walk away. “Well, thanks again.”  
  
I raise an eyebrow as the Trapinch totally ignores my goodbye and starts following me. Mira begins chattering with her as if they’re old friends, and the Trapinch babbles back enthusiastically. Once I realize what’s happening, I groan and cross my arms. “You’re making the executive decision to become my Pokemon, aren’t you?”  
  
Mira and the Trapinch nod in unison, and I sigh as I motion for the two of them to continue following me out of the grassy clearing. “Welcome to the team then, Roe.”


	6. Chapter 6

Twilight has fully settled over Petalburg by the time I make it back to Wally’s place. He greets me at the door with a furrowed brow and an impatient, tapping foot.  
  
“What the hell took you so long?” he asks as I hand him the bag from the Pokemart.  
  
“I sort of got roped into a battle,” I reply, breezing past him into the house.  
  
Wally follows close behind, getting all up in my space as he inspects Mira for any injuries. “I really wish you wouldn’t have battled anyone without me there,” he gripes, backing up as I shoo him away. “Did you at least win?”  
  
“Sort of,” I mumble, setting Mira down on the couch before rummaging around in my pocket. I pull out Roe’s Pokeball and press the button down gently. “I ended up recruiting another team member, too. Meet Roe.”  
  
As soon as Roe materializes, she climbs up onto the couch to give Mira a hug. Mira squeals and throws her arms open, jumping up and down as she hugs her back. Wally’s eyes bulge out as he glances between me and Roe. “Seriously?” he asks. “You can barely handle Mira, you think adding another Pokemon to your team this soon is a good idea?”  
  
I clench my jaw and put my hands on my hips. “I can _handle_ Mira just fine. And I didn’t even catch Roe, she just decided to come with us.”  
  
Roe nods her head happily and shoots Wally the same toothless smile she gave me when I first met her. Wally sighs and throws his hands up. “Whatever,” he says, annoyance creeping into his tone. “She and Mira seem to get along well, at least.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess they do,” I reply, fighting back a smile. Even I can admit that two little Pokemon hugging is pretty adorable.  
  
Wally clears his throat and reaches over to grab the landline on the wall. “By the way, your mom called while you were gone.”  
  
I flinch and take an instinctive step back. “You didn’t talk to her, did you?”  
  
He shrugs, extending the phone out to me. “Didn’t even pick up. She left a message and wants you to call her back, though.”  
  
“I bet she does,” I mutter, snatching the phone from him. “Mind giving me some privacy?”  
  
Wally silently collects Roe and Mira, leaving me alone in the living room. I take a massive breath and dial the phone, already regretting my decision as I bring the receiver to my ear.  
  
“Hello?” my mother answers in a surprised manner. As if she doesn’t know exactly who’s calling her.  
  
“How did you even get this number?” I ask in a low voice, knuckles tightening around the worn white extension cord.  
  
“Ah, Lilian,” she says, her voice cool and measured. “How lovely of you to take a break from your, erm, lover to call me back.”  
  
I roll my eyes and lean against the wall. “You know that’s bullshit,”  
  
“What I _know_ is that you have no business shacking up with some nobody,” my mother replies, pausing to sip on her favorite chardonnay, no doubt. “You have a job to do in Kanto.”  
  
“You seriously don’t get it?” I laugh, incredulous over my mother’s ignorance. “I know you saw the news broadcast. I’m going to be a Trainer, plain and simple.”  
  
My mother lets out a curt chuckle, which usually means she’s seconds away from losing her shit. “Lilian, why on earth would you want to do that?” she asks with an air of unmistakable snobbery.  
  
“Because I want to accomplish something that doesn’t have anything to do with how nice my _ass is_ ,” I shoot back, raising my voice as I grow red in the face. “I’m fucking done with showbusiness, Mom.”  
  
“Lilian, you’re being stupid and ungrateful,” my mother hisses, speaking with a quiet venom that I know all too well. “Pack your bags back up and come home before I drag you by your ratty hair.”  
  
I slam the phone back onto the wall hook, hands shaking as I sink to the floor. A minute or so passes before Wally awkwardly ambles into the living room, holding a box of PokePellets. Mira and Roe trail behind him, concern reflected in their eyes. “Are, uh…..are you alright?” Wally asks in a hesitant tone.  
  
“I’m just peachy,” I grunt, trying desperately not to cry. Mira waddles over to me and plops herself down in my lap, reaching up to wipe a stray tear as it rolls across my cheek. Naturally, this only makes me want to cry harder.  
  
Wally rubs the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at me. “Look, we can take a few days before heading out if you need to-”  
  
“No,” I snap, shaking my head with vigor. “I want to throw everything I have into this as soon as I can. I won’t give her the fucking satisfaction.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” Wally replies, sounding unconvinced. He opens the box and leans down to feed a few PokePellets to Roe. Mira sticks out her lower lip and climbs out of my lap, rushing over to Wally with hands outstretched earnestly.  
  
I feel a sob dangerously close to escaping from me, so I let out a forceful exhale and glance up at Wally. “So, how was _your_ call with your mother?”  
  
Wally blushes and I arch an eyebrow in amusement. “She got all excited thinking I had a girlfriend,” he grumbles, avoiding my eyes as he feeds Mira her share of PokePellets. “Clearly she hadn’t seen all the reports from yesterday that show how much of a wackjob you are.”  
  
I huff, glaring at him with disdain. “Please, you could do a lot worse.”  
  
“Oh trust me, I know,” Wally mutters. Our eyes meet and an awkward beat of silence passes before he clears his throat. “Anyways, it’s been one hell of a day. I think we should get some sleep.”  
  
As soon as the word ‘sleep’ is uttered, Mira begins to wail in protest and scurries out of the living room. I groan and hoist myself up off the ground as Wally begins jogging after her. In contrast, Roe seems to be perfectly content with the fact that it’s time to go to bed. She settles onto the plumpest couch cushion and drags a nearby blanket over herself with her teeth. I give her a few pats on the head before joining in the chase. I’ve only been at it for a day, and motherhood is already exhausting.  
  
***  
  
When I amble downstairs the following morning, Brendan is sitting at the dining room table with Wally and Cleo. He smiles broadly at me and waves, pointing at a white box in the center of the table. “Morning sunshine!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. “I brought some donuts over to chow down on.”  
  
“Sounds great, I’m starving,” I murmur, wiping the sleep from my eyes with balled fists. Mira trails behind me, mimicking my gesture as we both make our way into the dining room. I settle onto the chair next to Wally, opening the box and shoving a chocolate sprinkle donut into my mouth. I break a piece off to give to Mira, who accepts it with wide eyes and a beaming smile.  
  
Wally shoots me a look and takes Mira’s treat away from her, replacing it with a piece of a Razz Berry. “Pokemon can’t have chocolate, Lilian.”  
  
“I…...I knew that,” I insist as I wash the donut down with some MooMoo Milk. Guess I’ve got a lot to learn. Roe wanders in from the living room, bleary-eyed and shuffling slowly.  
  
Brendan clears his throat and leans forward, elbows propped up on the table. “Well Miss Meridian, it’s quite a big day for you” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows at me. “And I have just the thing to commemorate the occasion.” He leans down and pulls something out of his messenger bag. It’s sleek- about as thick as a credit card- and a glistening crimson red.  
  
“A Pokedex?” I ask somewhat rhetorically. Roe and Mira ooh and ahh at the device, while Cleo simply bats her eyelashes.  
  
“Yup,” Brendan replies, sliding it across the table to me. “Brand spankin’ new, too.”  
  
“Thank you,” I say, flipping the Pokedex over in my hand and admiring its lightweight design. “I’m sure this’ll be useful.”  
  
Wally plucks it from my grip, inspecting it with narrowed eyes. He chuckles as he hands it back to me. “Damn, this thing makes my Pokedex look ancient.”  
  
Brendan nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair. “We’re practically old geezers, Wakefield.”  
  
I pocket the Pokedex and polish off the last of my donut, licking the chocolate off my fingers. “As much as I want to listen to the two of you reminisce over the glory days, I think these two are itching to battle some more.” I gesture at Roe and Mira, who are now play-sparring with each other under the table.  
  
Wally nods, rising to collect our dirty plates. “I’ll put these in the dishwasher and then I’m ready to go.”  
  
Brendan swipes a strawberry donut from the box and stuffs it into his mouth. “I better get going too,” he says semi-articulately between bites. “Lots to do at the lab today.”  
  
“I bet you get a lot of ten year olds coming around this time of year,” I say, sipping on the last of my MooMoo Milk.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Brendan confirms with a grimace. “To be honest, most of them are pretty annoying. Super eager yet so, _so_ naive about how difficult it is to make it as a successful Trainer.”  
  
I offer him a weak smile, glancing away. “At least they’re not an old hag like me trying to make it as a Trainer.”  
  
Brendan scoffs, shaking his head at me. “You’ll do a much better job as a Trainer than most of those kids. They’re way too cocky.”  
  
“Lilian has no room to be cocky, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing,” Wally quips as he exits the kitchen.  
  
Cleo admonishes him with a slap on the arm but I just roll my eyes as I stand up. “You just wait and see Wally. I’ll be kicking ass soon enough.”  
  
Brendan rises to give me a fist bump. “That’s the spirit,” he says with a broad smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. It’s the first time that the family resemblance between him and his father strikes me. “I can already tell you’ll be a star.” he declares with unwavering confidence.  
  
I shiver, holding my hands up in protest. “I just want to blend in, thanks.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” he relents, waving his hand as if to erase his previous comment. “You can be an unassuming yet mighty star that _doesn’t_ glow or whatever.”  
  
Wally snorts, lugging a duffel bag filled to the brim in from the living room. “You ready to go, you unassuming star?”  
  
I take a moment to glance around the room. My bag is packed, my water bottle filled. Roe is running circles around me, giggling like a maniac with drool hanging out of wide-open mouth. Brendan puts me at ease with a reassuring smile, arms raised above him in a stretch. Wally’s wary gaze makes my heart skip a beat. I wonder if I’m actually going to be able to manage this. Is Wally justified in being unsure of me? Was my mother right?  
  
Mira tugs at the bottom of my dress, breaking my train of thought. She leans into me, gripping my leg and peering up at me with those huge, innocent eyes. I don’t know how, but I can feel an immense trust reflected in them. And for now, that's enough. It has to be.


	7. Chapter 7

They don’t know it, but I can see them.  
  
There’s three of them, crouching in some nearby shrubbery. I might not have noticed them at all if not for the bright purple baseball cap one of them is donning. It sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the green foliage, signaling to me everything that I need to know: there’s paparazzi hiding in those bushes, and they’re looking for the perfect shot.  
  
“Roe, use Bulldoze,” I say, scooping Mira off the ground and waving a lazy hand in the general direction of their hiding place. I don’t break my stride, but Wally stops short in his confusion and turns around. Roe happily obliges, stomping her feet haphazardly and sending intense shock waves through the earth. Wally nearly falls over but I grab his arm to steady him as I narrow my eyes at the cluster of shrubs.  
  
Two of the paparazzi tumble out of the bushes, falling flat on their faces. They scurry away, spitting grass out of their mouths as they run as fast as their scrawny legs can manage. The remaining pap- the one in the purple hat- scrambles for his camera as he rises from the ground.  
  
I stick my middle finger up right as he goes to snap a picture, chuckling at the scowl on his face. “Good luck selling that to the tabloids,” I call out, dragging a dumbfounded Wally away. Roe scampers after us, still shaking the ground slightly as her hands and feet make contact with the ground.  
  
“How did you know they were hiding there?” Wally asks, looking over his shoulder. All the color- which isn’t much to begin with, mind you- is drained from his face.  
  
I glance behind me and to my delight, see the paparazzi trudging away. “Lots of practice,” I respond, shifting Mira in my arms as I reach down to remove my sandals. “And they aren’t very good at hiding to begin with.”  
  
Wally rubs the back of his neck, a pained look spreading fast across his face. “They’re going to follow us whenever they get the chance, aren’t they?”  
  
“Yup,” I reply, picking up my pace as I see the ocean come in view. “They and I are a package deal.”  
  
Wally continues to gripe, but I take off running the moment I can see the coastline. Mira squeals with excitement and I find myself breaking out into a smile when my toes come into contact with warm sand. Roe seems equally as thrilled to be on the beach, stopping short to eat a generous mouthful of sand and shells.  
  
I let out a happy sigh as the ocean water sloshes against my ankles. Roe eyes the sea warily, staying several yards behind and hissing when the tide grazes her leg. Mira wiggles out of my grasp and drops down into the water. She splashes around for a few moments before throwing her arms in the air. I mimic her, stretching tall and wide as I enjoy the salty breeze and sun shining down on my face.  
  
Finally having caught up with us, Wally plops himself down in the sand next to Roe and begins rolling his pants up to his knees. “I think this is the happiest I’ve seen you since I met you,” he remarks, looking on in amusement as I twirl around in circles.  
  
“I love the ocean,” I say, grabbing Mira’s outstretched hands and spinning her around with me. She looks positively delighted, eyes wide with merriment. “I would retire out here in a hot minute.”  
  
“Maybe you can when you become the Champion,” Wally quips, propping his elbows on his knees.  
  
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Who said anything about becoming Champion? I’m not a freaking anomaly.”  
  
Wally shrugs, glancing down the coastline. “I was mostly kidding. Actually beating the League is quite the feat.”  
  
“Didn’t you say yesterday that Brendan beat the League?” I ask, lifting a hand to shield my face from the sun as the few stray clouds in the sky drift away.  
  
“Yeah,” Wally replies. I might just be imagining it, but his voice sounds a bit strained. “As a ten year old newbie Trainer, no less.”  
  
My eyes widen. “Now that’s an anomaly.”  
  
Wally snorts, scooping up a handful of sand and pouring it into Roe’s eager mouth. “Tell me about it. He basically achieved every kid’s fantasy.”  
  
“But he’s a Professor now,” I respond somewhat rhetorically, drawing circles in the shallow water with my foot. Mira giggles as I splash her with a flick of my toes.  
  
“Which was his ultimate goal all along,” Wally explains as Roe runs happy circles around him. “He just kind of stumbled into the whole Trainer thing. He’s always been naturally successful like that.”  
  
“Does that annoy you?” I ask, a hint of curiosity coloring my voice.  
  
Wally scowls and turns away. “You know what they say about assuming, don’t you Lilian?”  
  
Now it’s my turn to shrug. “I’m already an ass,” I say, the faintest of smirks spreading across my face. “I have nothing to lose.”  
  
Before Wally can respond, a young boy rushes up to us and points at me. “Hey lady, you wanna battle?” he yells, other hand flying to his holstered Pokeball.  
  
I sigh, trying to hardest not to roll my eyes at his enthusiasm. “Sure kid. You wanna battle my Ralts or my Trapinch?”  
  
The boy narrows his eyes and looks between the two, pointing at Roe after a moment of internal debate. Head hanging dejectedly, Ralts waddles out of the water and settles next to Wally on the sand.  
  
“We’ll find you someone to battle after this, Mira,” I assure her, turning to face my opponent. “Ready when you are.”  
  
The boy grins and sends out a hyper Zigzagoon who immediately begins to charge at Roe. Caught off guard, she grunts as the Zigzagoon sends her tumbling into the water. I frown, bending down to swipe droplets off her back for her. “That was hardly fair,” I say to the boy.  
  
He holds his arms over his head in exasperation. “You said you were ready!”  
  
“We are,” I respond through gritted teeth, motioning for Roe to attack. “Use Sand Tomb,”  
  
“Growl!” the boy counters quickly, but the Zigzagoon’s low snarl doesn’t faze Roe in the slightest. She lets out a mighty roar and with that, the sand around us kicks up and traps the Zigzagoon in a dusty vortex.  
  
The boy grimaces, shielding his eyes from the sand. “Use Tackle!”  
  
“Dig,” I say, and Roe disappears under the ground as the Zigzagoon attempts to break free from Sand Tomb. The boy’s eyes grow wide as he frantically begins to search for Roe. Before he can get his wits about him, Roe emerges from the sand directly under the Zigzagoon and sends it flying. It lands with a thud several yards away, clearly out for the count.  
  
The boy hangs his head in a dejected manner, recalling his Pokemon. “Darn it, that was harder than I thought it would be.” He walks over and hands me a few small bills, which I add to my wad of cash.  
  
“You’ll, uh, get ‘em next time kid,” I respond clunkily, leaning down to pat a proud Roe on the head. He nods and runs off down the coast.  
  
I turn as Wally begins to slow clap. “That wasn’t half bad,” he says, giving Roe a thumbs up as she dashes over to him and Mira.  
  
“That was half a compliment,” I counter, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my sunglasses.  
  
Wally smirks at me. “That’s because it was an easy battle. We’ll see how you do against more formidable Trainers.”  
  
Surprising myself, I flinch at his words. My hands fly to my hips in a defensive stance, but what I really want is to curl up in a ball and roll away. I have a feeling that when it comes to being a Trainer, the learning curve isn’t anything to sneeze at. I’ve been lucky so far, but I doubt things will stay that way.  
  
****  
  
“Are you kidding me right now?” Wally asks, arms crossed in defiance. He glares at me like I just insulted his mother. Mira glances between the two of us in confusion as she tugs on the hem of my dress. Roe is eating sand, which I’m quickly learning seems to be her favorite treat.  
  
I shake my head, glaring right back at him as I gesture towards the row of tents that line the now dark, dusky beach. “Take your pick, but there’s no way in hell I’m sharing one with you.”  
  
Wally massages his temples with closed eyes. “The tents are meant to be shared, Lilian. There’s enough room in there for like five people.”  
  
“I don’t care,” I state firmly, turning my back towards him as I toss my belongings into the tent I’ve chosen. “I barely know you and I’m not risking you making some creepy pass at me in my sleep.”  
  
“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,” Wally mutters, stalking away to find himself a tent of his own. I shoot daggers at the back of his head but I’m secretly relieved he doesn’t seem to be a pervert so far. _So far._  
  
I lift open the flaps of the bright orange tent and step out of the way for Mira and Roe to enter first. Roe makes herself comfortable on one of the emerald green cushions scattered about on the carpeted floor while Mira looks around in awe. Several small cots are lined up against one wall of the tent, with fresh linens meticulously folded on top of each. A large lantern casts a warm, hazy glow in all directions.  
  
“I could get used to this,” I say to myself, plopping down on one of the cots. Hoenn’s recent initiative to provide luxury rest stops along most routes was an excellent one, if you ask me.  
  
“Knock, knock,” Wally says sarcastically from outside. I let out a vague grunt of approval and he lifts the flap of the tent, letting Cleo enter before he does. She glides over to the cushions- which I’ve ascertained are for Pokemon to sleep on- and daintily lowers herself down on the one next to Roe. Both Mira and Roe gaze up at her with looks of pure adoration, hearts practically springing from their eyes.  
  
“It’s not polite to stare,” I admonish them, snapping my fingers to break their trances. Cleo blinks, seemingly unfazed over all the attention.  
  
Wally clears his throat, sitting down on the cot next to me. He pulls a neatly folded map from his jacket pocket, spreading it out across the cot with his hands. “I figured we’d better go over the game plan for the next few days,” he says.  
  
“Alright,” I say, crossing one leg over the other as I lean forward to look at the map.  
  
“So, we’ll head into Petalburg Woods tomorrow,” Wally starts, pointing to a wooded area on the leftmost side of the map. “We’ll aim to reach the rest stop in the middle of the forest before sunset.”  
  
“Okay, and then what?” I ask.  
  
Wally nods, dragging his finger slightly upward. “Well we _could_ just leave the rest stop first thing tomorrow morning and reach Rustboro before it gets dark.”  
  
I cock an eyebrow, glancing away from the map to look at him. “Are you proposing a different plan?”  
  
“I think it could be good for us to spend a few days in the woods,” Wally replies, moving his finger back down the map. “A lot of Trainers camp out there and get some serious practice in before challenging Roxanne.”  
  
“And I uh, _have_ to challenge Roxanne?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek.  
  
Wally stares blankly at me. I almost think he’s going to snap at me, but instead he just sighs. “I suppose you could just travel around Hoenn battling random Trainers, but wouldn’t you rather have something to show for your hard work?”  
  
I glance over at Mira and Roe, who are utterly passed out on their respective cushions. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what I want out of this,” I reply, moving my gaze to the floor. “I had a whole different life two days ago.”  
  
“You and I both,” Wally says, rising as he folds the map back up into a pocket-sized square. “Two days ago I thought I’d be solo travelling around the region and raising my old partner’s baby.”  
  
I couldn’t tell you why, but the sentiment makes me bust out laughing. Wally shoots me an exasperated look as he tucks the map back into his jacket. “What’s so funny about that?”  
  
“This whole situation is just ridiculous,” I mutter after composing myself, shaking my head.  
  
Wally gives me a tight-lipped smile, saluting me as he steps out of the tent one foot at a time. “Now that’s something we can both agree on.”  



	8. Chapter 8

We may be in the woods, but Mira is _not_ a happy camper.  
  
She stands glued to the ground, staring in disgust at her arms and legs covered in the thick, white goo that Wurmple after Wurmple have shot at her. When she tries to break free, she is only able to move several inches at a time.  
  
“You’ve almost knocked it out, Mira!” I yell, lacing my voice with an upbeat inflection in an attempt to encourage her. She looks back at me with trembling eyes as she struggles.  
  
Much to my chagrin, Wally begins to voice his displeasure from the sidelines. “You never should’ve let all that string build up,” he remarks, glancing at Mira with concern and then at me in annoyance.  
  
“Yeah well we all make mistakes sometimes, Wally,” I bite back as I scan the battlefield. The bug catcher we are opposing is practically pissing himself with excitement as he prematurely celebrates his victory against Mira. His third Wurmple wiggles up to Mira, ramming its dopey head into her body over and over.  
  
I wince listening to Mira’s strained cries, searching my mind for a fast solution to this predicament. Wally explained to me earlier that while Mira is still a baby, she’ll need to engage her whole body in psychic attacks. Once she’s evolved, she’ll better be able to control it better. For now, she can’t launch an attack without her hands. At least not a particularly strong one.  
  
“Mira!” I shout, desperate to try just about anything. Once I have her attention, I tap between my eyes with two fingers. “Focus really hard and try to launch an attack without your hands!”  
  
Heeding my instructions, however dumb they may be, Mira narrows her eyes at the Wurmple and lets out a strained grunt. The psychic energy she emits is pathetic, but luckily Wurmple are even more so. The small jolt sends it flying backwards, knocked out cold at the bug catcher’s feet.  
  
I pump my fist in the air and I hear Wally let out a massive sigh. Mira groans and flops down on the ground, exhausted from all of her struggling.  
  
The bug catcher hands me some money before stalking away, fainted Wurmple limp in his arms. I turn towards Wally once I wipe all of the string off of Mira’s body, expecting him to look relieved. Instead, I’m met with crossed arms and a tight jaw.  
  
“What’s up your ass?” I mutter, pushing past him as Mira waddles after me.  
  
He catches me by the shoulder, spinning me around to face him. I roughly swat his hand away but he doesn’t even blink. “Seriously Lilian, that was really irresponsible,” he says, a darkened expression clouding his face. “You battled too many bugs without cleaning her off and she struggled because of it.”  
  
I glare at the mossy forest floor, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I’ll be more careful next time,” I reply through gritted teeth, recalling Mira into her Pokeball.  
  
“You better be,” Wally says, relaxing his stance a bit. “I care about her a lot.”  
  
“So do I,” I counter, fists balling up at my sides.  
  
Wally blinks at me, shaking his head as he begins to walk back towards the rest stop. “That might be true, but she’s family to me,” he says over his shoulder, disappearing into the trees with hands thrust into his pockets.  
  
I frown, tossing Mira’s Pokeball into my bag and trading it for Roe’s. I can’t decide if Wally’s too overprotective, if I’m incompetent, or both.  
  
A strange buzz enters my ears suddenly. It’s low and soft; not annoying but simply _there_. I glance around in an attempt to find the source, but no luck. The forest is otherwise silent- perhaps a leaf or two drifting down to the ground every now and again, but nothing making any discernible sound. Maybe I was just imagining it?  
  
And there it is again. This time when I look, I find myself face to face with a Pokemon with fluttering wings and kind, murky eyes. I squint at it, sliding my Pokedex out of my pocket. “You look so familiar, but I’m not quite sure what you are,” I mutter, punching a few buttons before holding the camera on the Pokedex up to the mystery Pokemon.  
  
“Yanma,” the robotic yet oddly womanly voice of the Pokedex barks. “The Clear Wing Pokemon. This Yanma is a female.”  
  
“Ah,” I say to her, dropping the device back into my pocket. “I’ve seen one of your kind compete in a Contest once. It was pretty strong.”  
  
The Yanma simply stares at me, the low hum of her wings causing a strange peace to wash over me. Sappy, maybe, but I find her presence comforting in a way that I’ve never felt from a Pokemon. In fact, combined with the tranquil stillness of the woods, I think this is the first time I’ve felt even remotely calm since quitting my job.  
  
I hesitate for a moment, but dig around in my bag for a Pokeball. “Would you maybe want to travel with me? I could use a travel companion that isn’t hyper or neurotic.”  
  
The Yanma seems to consider this, flitting around me in a way that makes me feel like she might be sizing me up. Her quiet demeanor sort of reminds me of Cleo. Maybe the two of them could be friends.  
  
Just when I think she might fly away, the Yanma nudges the Pokeball in my hand and disappears inside of it. And just like that, I have another Pokemon.  
  
***  
  
“Another one?” Wally groans, flopping down on his cot. From across the tent, Cleo prunes her blooms using a pair of shears and watches our exchange with a bemused expression.  
  
I shrug, rummaging through my bag for Mira and Roe’s Pokeballs. “The more the merrier, right?”  
  
Wally throws his hands in the air, eyes glued to the ceiling. “Sure, what’s one more bad decision?” he mumbles.  
  
I glare at him, tossing the Pokeballs so Mira and Roe land on an empty cot. Once they materialize, I crouch down next to them and lower my voice to a whisper. “Listen, I caught another Pokemon just a bit ago,” I start, watching as big grins spread fast across their faces. “She’s not quite as, er, _energetic_ as you two though. So try not to scare her.”  
  
The two nod furiously at me, very much wanting to meet their new friend. I nod back to confirm the mutual understanding, palming the Yanma’s Pokeball and releasing her into the air. She glides around the tent as she gains her bearings, her wings emanating the same low buzz from earlier. Mira and Roe watch with eyes as wide as saucers, squirming in place as they try to contain their excitement.  
  
Wally props himself up on his elbows and gazes at the Yanma. “Those are pretty rare around these parts.”  
  
“I figured as much,” I muse, holding my arm out so she has somewhere to land. “I think I’ll name her Sage.”  
  
After lingering in the air for another few moments, Sage lowers herself onto my arm. I hold her out for Mira and Roe to greet. They beam at her as they begin to chatter with brash enthusiasm. Sage stares silently at the both of them for a minute before buzzing her wings at varying frequencies, which seems to be the way that her kind communicates. The exchange makes me wonder what she was trying to say to me back where I met her.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you Sage,” Wally says, approaching her with a smile and lightly touching the top of her head. “My name is Wally.” Cleo sets the shears down and ambles over to us all, bowing her head at Sage as she mutters something incomprehensible. As I suspected, Sage already seems to have gained her favor.  
  
Wally clears his throat and turns to me. “Now that all of the introductions are out of the way, maybe you should go try to train her up some.”  
  
I scowl at him. “Who are you, my mother? I don’t need to be told what to do.”  
  
“Could’ve fooled me,” Wally mutters, plopping down on the cot as he lets out a prolonged yawn.  
  
“Tired from all the nagging?” I ask, not even attempting to hold back my smirk.  
  
He rolls his eyes and reaches behind him to fluff a pillow. “It’s been a long couple of days. I was thinking about taking a nap.”  
  
I sling my backpack across my shoulders and recall Mira and Roe before dropping their Pokeballs into it. “Well I think I can manage by myself while you do that,” I say. “Hopefully you’ll wake up less grumpy.”  
  
Wally shoos me away without arguing further, opting to turn his back to me as he lies down. I wave goodbye to Cleo and motion for Sage to follow me out of the tent.  
  
Unlike the rest stop on the beach, this one is bustling with other Trainers. An overwhelming amount of sounds and smells barrage me as I weave my way between the other tents. One girl tries to get my attention for a battle by grabbing my sweater sleeve, but I pull away and make a beeline for an empty clearing far away from everyone else. I’m still a little paranoid about being recognized.  
  
Sage and I train for what seems like hours, knocking out Wurmple after Wurmple. Her Quick Attack is swift and powerful, and she executes each one with a graceful flip through the air. After a while I can tell she’s getting tired, but as I search my bag for Potions, I realize that I didn’t pack any for this particular excursion.  
  
“I think that’s enough for today, Sage,” I say, recalling her into her Pokeball and tucking it into the pocket of my bag. I grab Roe’s Pokeball and release her, instructing her to battle a few wild Slakoth that lazily hang from the trees as I take a swig from my water bottle. This Trainer thing isn’t as hard as it’s made out to be.  
  
All of a sudden, Roe stops dead in her tracks and lets out a loud cry. I swivel around just in time to see a Poochyena rushing towards us. It opens its mouth wide and bites down hard on Roe, sinking its teeth into her body until she quickly passes out from the pain.  
  
Before I can move to help her, the Poochyena barrels towards me and slams its head into my stomach, knocking the wind right out of me as I fall to the ground. I wince as my hands break my fall, feeling sharp rocks dig into my palms and ripping the skin wide open.  
  
I jerk my head in the direction of the attack and watch on in horror as a man slings an unconscious Roe over his shoulder. I claw desperately at the ground, dragging myself towards my bag with trembling fingers, but the man kicks it out of my reach.  
  
I glare up at him, shuddering from the shooting pain in my hands. He smiles at me, flashing pearly whites with a gold canine. He’s got a five-o-clock shadow and some elaborate tattoo decorating his upper arm, partially covered by a tight-fitting striped shirt. “Sorry sweetheart,” he says, grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “Today just isn’t your lucky day.”  
  
“Give me back my Pokemon you fucking bastard,” I spit, swatting at his leg with my hand in a pathetic attempt to knock him down. I try to stand but I can hardly breathe and my palms feel like fire.  
  
The man laughs, winking at me before turning to walk away. Tears spring from my eyes as I start to drag myself towards my bag again. I need to reach Mira or Sage. I can’t let him get away with Roe.  
  
“Petal Blizzard.”  
  
A deafening storm of violent pink petals explodes from behind me, sweeping the man up into the air and slamming him against a nearby tree. Roe falls out of his arms, still lifeless as she tumbles off in a different direction. The Poochyena lays motionless on the floor, its body bleeding from a myriad of deep cuts. After an attack that powerful, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was dead.  
  
A strong hand roughly yanks me off the ground by the arm, holding me steady as I tremble. I glance up and see Wally, looking pissed as all hell.  
  
“Cleo, go get Roe,” Wally says, his voice measured but stiff. I look to my left and see Cleo, eyes glowing a ferocious red as she relents in her attack on the man. She approaches Roe with care, gingerly picking her up and setting her down at our feet. Consider they’re both roughly the same size, I’d wager that Cleo is stronger than she looks.  
  
“Solar Beam,” Wally instructs, cold and unwavering. Cleo doesn’t hesitate, reaching her arms up towards the sky and calling upon the energy of the sun shining through the forest canopy. The man clamors to his feet and just narrowly misses the brilliant beam of blinding light that rips through the forest. The attack utterly decimates the trees in its path, leaving a clearing in front of us as far as the eye can see. The man curses violently as he staggers away, not giving his Poochyena a second thought.  
  
I pull my arm away from Wally and sink to the floor, stroking Roe’s head with the back of my trembling hand as I gaze up at Wally in utter shock. I figured I’d see him battle eventually, but I had no idea he would pack such a punch.  
  
Wally stares back down at me, his eyes icy and stoic. “Are you okay, Lilian?”  
  
I try to speak but I start to cry instead, hanging my head in embarrassment as tears roll down my dirt-covered cheeks. Cleo places a tender bloom on my shoulder and Roe snuggles into my chest as she begins to come to.  
  
Wally sighs, moving to grab my bag from the floor as he watches the clearing warily. “I think we need to call Brendan.”


	9. Chapter 9

I wince as Brendan dabs the cuts on my hands with some hellish antibacterial ointment, biting the inside of my cheek to stop from crying out. Brendan shoots me a sympathetic smile as he slowly winds thick strips of gauze around both hands. “It’ll hurt for a few days but you’ll get better soon enough,” he assures me.  
  
“Thanks Brendan,” I reply, inhaling sharply as I wiggle my fingers. I look like a freaking mummy.  
  
“I can’t believe I let you go out there by yourself.”  
  
Brendan and I turn towards Wally, sitting cross-legged on a cot on the far side of the tent. Mira is out of her Pokeball and snoozing in his lap, blissfully unaware of what happened only an hour ago.  
  
I scowl at him, pulling my sweater closer to my chest. “It’s not my fault some lunatic attacked me and Roe.”  
  
Wally refuses to look at me, instead gazing at Mira as he strokes her head. “You clearly don’t have the situational awareness you need to travel around solo, and it almost killed Roe,” he says, a hint of malice creeping into his voice.  
  
I flinch at the accusation, too beside myself to argue back. Brendan furrows his brow and holds out a cautionary hand. “Take it easy Wally,” he warns. “Even I could never anticipate Team Aqua’s next move back in the day.”  
  
“Team Aqua?” I echo, confused but simultaneously feeling like I should know what he’s talking about. Why does that name sound so familiar?  
  
Wally rises, cradling Mira in his arms as he moves across the tent. He sets Mira in my lap and immediately turns away from me. “I’m getting some air. Hopefully you can manage to keep her alive while I’m gone,” he mutters over his shoulder as he lifts the flap of the tent and stalks away.  
  
I grit my teeth, feeling anger well up inside of me followed by tears that blur my vision. Brendan sighs and places a hand on my upper arm. The gesture makes me feel pitied, and I don’t care for that shit at all.  
  
“Don’t mind him, he gets a little testy when it comes to his…..well, I suppose _your_ Pokemon,” Brendan says, settling onto the cot next to me. “But Mira is Nikolai’s, and Nikolai is like family to Wally.”  
  
“Wasn’t it you who said he was a _softie?”_ I ask incredulously, trying my hardest not to let any tears escape. I’m normally not such a crybaby, but I guess the tabloids were right in assuming I’m spiralling.  
  
“I swear he’s the best guy I know,” Brendan replies, glancing in the direction that Wally left. “He’s just got some walls up. Life hasn’t been the kindest to him.”  
  
Before I can fully ponder that sentiment, Brendan leans towards me with his elbows propped against his knees. “Anyways, you asked about Team Aqua. You would’ve been a little kid back then, but Team Aqua was an organization that hurt a lot of people back when Wally and I first started out as trainers.”  
  
I raise an eyebrow. “ _Was?_ That bastard is still clearly up to some evil shit.”  
  
“Which is news to me,” Brendan replies, his expression darkening as bows his head. “Team Aqua was disbanded over a decade ago, but Wally swears the man that tried to steal Roe was one of their grunts.”  
  
“Wait a second,” I say, narrowing my eyes as I begin to remember why Team Aqua sounded so familiar. “Are these the people who tried to flood the planet like fifteen years ago?”  
  
Brendan nods. “Sixteen, actually.”  
  
I blink at him, unsure of what to say. “So they’re trying to do it again?  
  
“I have no idea,” Brendan answers, worry evident in his voice. “But there’s someone in Rustboro who might.”  
  
“Who?” I ask, glancing down at Mira. She shifts in her sleep, mumbling something under her breath before beginning to snore. I'm admittedly growing pretty fond of her, but that still hasn't overridden my apprehension about being a Trainer in the first place.  
  
Wally re-enters the tent before Brendan can answer me, hands stuffed into his pockets. “I’m, uh, sorry for what I said Lilian,” he tells me, averting his gaze towards the floor. “It was uncalled for.”  
  
I cross my arms, glaring at him as I study his face. I want to give him a piece of my mind, but he looks genuinely embarrassed. And as much as it scares me to admit, part of me thinks he’s right to be wary of my capabilities to keep my team safe. Can I really blame him for doubting my competency? I’ve been a Trainer for less than a week, and I already almost got one of my Pokemon stolen.  
  
“It’s fine,” I huff, hugging Mira closer to me. “I know we’re all a little on-edge right now.  
  
“That’s an understatement,” Wally replies, looking relieved that I haven’t yelled at him.  
  
Brendan stands up and begins to collect his things. “I think we should head out if everyone’s ready,” he says, adjusting the green bandana wrapped around his forehead. “Gloriana’s had plenty of time to take a breather.”  
  
Wally tosses me Mira’s Pokeball from my bag across the room and I recall her, rising to gather my own belongings. Brendan tosses a cash tip for the housekeepers on one of the empty cots before the three of us exit the tent. I sure hope this mystery person in Rustboro has some answers for us.  
  
****  
  
Rustboro City bustles with an ever-present energy that reminds me of Saffron back in Kanto. Every street is lined with cobblestone and filled with people rushing to their various destinations. In the distance, spirals of thick gray smoke emanate from the looming brick chimneys of a rather imposing building. I cringe as we pass by the recreational center that used to hold the beauty pageants my mother made me compete in. I can still taste the hairspray and bubblegum-flavored lipstick.  
  
Brendan leads the way with purpose, expertly weaving in and out of the crowd as he guides us to the cafe where we’re supposed to meet his and Wally’s friend. The only one of our Pokemon that’s out of their Pokeball is Cleo, who glides along the cobblestone with the grace of a seasoned dancer. It amazes me how a Pokemon can be so damn put-together while I’m a hot mess.  
  
We round the corner and Wally immediately quickens his pace, brushing past Brendan to approach a man sitting at a bistro table. The man rises and goes in for a half handshake, half hug, beaming at Brendan from over Wally’s shoulder as he does so. He looks to be in his mid-forties, with coiffed light blue hair and the beginnings of crows feet bunched around his eyes. He’s dressed in a suit that looks to cost about as much as the fat wad of cash I’m carrying, but I get the sense he’s more down-to-earth than this fact would imply. At least I hope he is.  
  
“Steven Stone, it’s been too long!” Brendan exclaims as he closes the gap between them, patting the man on the back before turning to face me. “Lilian, Steven. Steven, Lilian.”  
  
I offer him a tentative wave, shifting uncomfortably on my feet. This reads like some sort of brotherly reunion, and I feel like an outsider.  
  
Steven opts to not shake my hand once he notices my bandages, instead nodding at me with a warm smile coloring his admittedly handsome features. “It’s a pleasure, Lilian,” he says, a certain sincerity in his voice that puts me at ease. “The boys have met her many times before, but this is my wife.”  
  
He gestures toward a woman seated at his table that I hadn’t even noticed up until now. Lowering her newspaper, she peers up at me through round sunglasses. She removes them slowly, curious brown eyes regarding me for a few silent moments. It is then I notice a _rock_ of an engagement ring on her left hand. The stone is a brilliant, fiery blue that I assume is some sort of sapphire. It seems to greet me before she gets a chance to.  
  
I move to wave at her, but she pushes herself up out of her seat and pulls me in for a hug. When she steps away, my eyes are drawn to her impeccably tailored sheath dress and blunt yet stylish bob. This woman is the embodiment of class.  
  
“Zinnia Stone,” she says in the kind of smooth, feminine voice I’d expect from a woman that looks like her. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you that spunky little thing that’s been on the news lately?”  
  
Wally snorts and I glare at him before sheepishly nodding my head. “In the flesh.”  
  
Zinnia breaks out into a wide smile, pulling me in for another hug. “You are my _hero,_ ” she coos, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she studies me. “Way to stick it to the man.”  
  
“Uh, thank you,” I reply, feeling awkward yet oddly flattered as I settle into one of the wrought iron chairs at the bistro table.  
  
Brendan and Wally follow my lead, flanking me on either side. Zinnia wraps her arms around one of Steven’s, gazing up at him with quiet adoration as she kicks her feet back and forth underneath the table. She seems to be about forty as well, but her elegance is mixed with a peculiar childlike quirkiness.  
  
“Judging by the look on your face, it seems catching up isn’t exactly the first item on your agenda,” Steven starts, eyeing Brendan from across the table. “Correct me if I’m wrong?”  
  
I glance at Brendan, whose expression has grown stormy. He cracks his knuckles before taking a deep breath. “Lilian here was attacked and nearly had one of her Pokemon stolen.”  
  
Zinnia’s dark brows furrow as she regards me with concern. Steven takes on a similar posture, cocking his head to one side. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you-”  
  
“We think it was an Aqua Grunt,” Wally interjects, staring Steven down. It’s strange but I get the sense that Wally doesn’t want to see him disappointed. I can tell by the look on his face. Who is this man to him?  
  
Steven clenches his jaw, bowing his head as Zinnia begins to caress his arm. When he looks up, it’s directly at me. “Scruffy? Blue striped shirt? Using a Water or Dark-type?”  
  
I swallow a lump forming in my throat as I nod. “Sounds about right.”  
  
Wally folds his arms on the table and leans in. “I saw him as well. Unless I need to get my eyes checked, it was definitely someone from Team Aqua.”  
  
“You’ve got to be mistaken,” Steven grumbles, shaking his head as if to rid his mind of the awful thought. “I haven’t heard anything about them reuniting.”  
  
“I have,” Zinnia pipes up quietly, placing one hand on top of the other. Her ring catches the light and glitters with a beautiful tenacity. A thin band studded with small diamonds rests just underneath it.  
  
Steven swivels his head to face her, looking confused. “What do you mean?”  
  
Zinna sighs and offers a tired shrug. “I didn’t want to worry you, dear. But I _have_ heard grumblings of them possibly getting their members back together.”  
  
My face grows hot and I shift in my seat, worried that we’re about to witness some sort of spousal dispute. To my relief, Steven instead opts to rub a reassuring thumb against her hand. He looks like he might throw up, though- a trait he currently shares with both Brendan and Wally.  
  
“This isn’t good,” Steven mutters, blinking rapidly at the ground.  
  
Wally lets out a sharp exhale through his nose and crosses his arms. “The grunt tried to steal her Trapinch, which is different than their usual M-O.”  
  
Zinnia quirks an eyebrow at me, eyes lighting up. “You have a Trapinch? That’s quite the darling species.”  
  
I manage a weak smile. “Yeah, Roe’s a sweetheart.”  
  
“Wally’s right, stealing Pokemon is more Rocket than Aqua,” Steven remarks as he takes a sip of the cold brew a waitress brings him off a tray brimming with drinks. The waitress sets down a tea for Zinnia and a plate of warm pastries, which I happily pick a danish off of. Almost getting my Pokemon stolen has really worked up an appetite, and it's nearly dinnertime anyways.  
  
“It makes sense,” Wally shrugs, plucking a croissant off the plate. “Clearly flooding the planet didn’t work out too well for them, but who’s to say they can’t be up to something else?”  
  
Zinna clears her throat as she stirs sugar into her tea with a small metal spoon. “Steven, do you think we should provide them with some security while they’re here in Rustboro?” she asks, looking up at her husband as drinks from his cup. “I want to make sure they stay safe.”  
  
Wally holds a hand up, shaking his head. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you. I’m pretty confident in my ability to protect everyone.”  
  
“If you’re sure...” Zinnia trails off, eyeing him with doubt. I can tell by the way his shoulders slump that Wally feels like shit for not being there when Aqua attacked in the first place.  
  
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I start, glancing around the table meekly. “But how do you all know each other? I’m not sure why we even came to you with this problem.”  
  
Wally glares at me as if I’ve said something taboo, but Steven waves the concern away. “No need to apologize, it was quite rude of me not to properly introduce myself,” he remarks as he adjusts his ruby red tie. “For starters, I’m the current president of the Devon Corporation and the former Champion of Hoenn.”  
  
“That’s quite the impressive repertoire,” I reply, leaning back in my chair as I take that all in. “You sound pretty important.”  
  
Steven rolls his eyes in a humble fashion but Zinnia shoves him jokingly. “Don’t be so modest, Steven.”  
  
Brendan chuckles as he turns to face me. “Steven’s quite the powerhouse, alright. He was pretty instrumental in taking Team Aqua down back when they were active.”  
  
“ _First_ active,” Wally corrects him darkly, successfully sullying the mood. Leave it to him to do that.  
  
“Brendan and Wally helped quite a bit as well,” Steven interjects, taking a swig of his coffee. “Couldn’t have done it without them.”  
  
“Me less so than Brendan, but yeah,” Wally mutters. I might just be hearing things, but I swear he sounds the slightest bit jealous.  
  
I bite my lip as I stare at Steven. “So do you have the resources or whatever to maybe stop Aqua from resurfacing again?”  
  
“I sure do hope so,” Steven sighs, pushing his now-empty glass towards the center of the table. “Give me a day or two and I’ll have more information for you all. Do you think you’ll be able to find something to occupy your time?”  
  
Brendan shoots me a devilish grin. “Lilian’s got to challenge Roxanne while we’re here.”  
  
I groan and bury my head into my hands. Zinnia laughs, giving me a playful kick from under the table. “Sounds like a blast! Best of luck to you while we figure this whole mess out,” she says to me.  
  
“Thanks,” I grumble, feeling a sudden and throbbing headache coming on. Who knew that in the span of a week I would become a national spectacle, be forced to travel with an uptight dude and mother his baby Pokemon, _and_ have to worry about some evil team? If I was a betting woman, I’d be betting against me.


	10. Chapter 10

I haven’t even had breakfast yet and my day has already been ruined.  
  
With a reluctant hand, I begrudgingly grab the pen from the starry-eyed little girl that’s sidled up to our outdoor table. I scribble a quick signature on the glossy photo she’s placed in front of me, shooing Wally away when he leans in to get a closer look. My cheeks burn crimson as I cast a disgusted glance at the picture of myself decked out in that Arceus-forsaken costume, blowing a kiss to the camera. The thought of ever having to put on that skin-tight outfit and wear that ridiculous wig again is enough to make me feel faint.  
  
The girl squeaks out a thank you and I manage a weak smile, but as she moves out of sight I groan and bury my head in my folded arms. After allowing me a few silent moments to brood, Wally pokes my elbow.  
  
“What?” I ask, glaring up at him.  
  
“I guess I’m just wondering what the big deal is,” he remarks, perusing the selection of baked goods on the table before selecting a muffin.  
  
“What do you mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him as I pluck a few berries off my plate and pop them into my mouth.  
  
He shrugs, taking a generous bite of his muffin. “I dunno, I think it’s kind of sweet she wanted an autograph. Why are you so upset?”  
  
My eyes roll upward as I wonder why I’m even about to humor that with a response. “You think I had a public outburst and ran away from my life because I _like_ that version of myself?”  
  
Wally regards me with a blank stare and I let out a sigh before continuing. “Sweet as it may be, that little girl doesn’t know the real me,” I mutter, taking a tentative sip on my hot coffee.  
  
“I suppose that’s probably true…” Wally trails off, raising a contemplative hand to his chin. “She has no idea how much of a pain you can be, at least.”  
  
I snort and shake my head. “You’re no walk in the park either, my dude.”  
  
Wally shrugs again and polishes off the last of his muffin. To my chagrin, I feel a sudden and dreadful urge to do something that I’ve been putting off.  
  
“Even so,” I start, crossing my arms in front of me as I look off to the side. “I never thanked you and Cleo for saving us in Petalburg Woods. So, uh, thanks.”  
  
Cleo, who up until now had been silently looking after the others eating their breakfasts at our feet, perks up at the sound of her name and offers me a deep, reverent bow. Wally nods and picks up another muffin. “Anytime. It’s really no big deal.”  
  
Against my better judgement and out of morbid curiosity, I make the decision to pry. “It was a pretty big deal to see you decimate that Aqua grunt like you’re some sort of pro,” I say, trying and failing to sound casual.  
  
Wally’s icy eyes meet mine before immediately flickering away as he flushes. “I’m no pro,” he grumbles.  
  
“Could’ve fooled me,” I shoot back, raising a brow at him. “Cleo’s quite the battler. You’ve raised her well.”  
  
“Speaking of battling,” he responds quickly, reaching down to dig around in his bag for something. “We should really go over your strategy for taking on Roxanne tomorrow.”  
  
I consider pressing the topic at hand, but he’s got a point. “Alright, guess I’m willing to take some pointers.”  
  
Wally pulls out today’s newspaper from his bag and moves our empty plates to make room for it on the table. “This is Roxanne’s current team she uses against beginners,” he starts, his finger moving to a picture in the center of the page. The photo depicts a black-haired woman with arms resting proudly on her hips. A Geodude and Nosepass stand on either side of her, looking rather fearsome and bulky.  
  
For some reason, the sight of the two Pokemon makes me start to sweat. “And I have to challenge her?”  
  
Wally blinks at me. “Do you have something better to do?”  
  
“Fair enough,” I mumble, leaning forward to rest my cheek against my fist. “What’s the game plan, then?”  
  
Wally straightens up in his seat and gestures to Roe, who is happily munching on her last few Oran-flavored Pokeblocks. “Roe is the game plan, plain and simple.”  
  
Surprised, I glance up at him. “Just Roe? I get that Sage is weak against Rock types but you don’t even think Mira should battle?”  
  
“I don’t think she’s ready yet,” he says tensely, looking over at Mira. She and Roe, now finished with their meals, have taken to chasing Sage around the cafe patio as she soars just above their reach.  
  
“What?” I ask, wrinkling my nose in confusion. “She’s been doing great in battles and ever since she learned Double Team she’s-”  
  
“ _Look,_ ” Wally interrupts, shooting me an annoyed look. “The whole reason we’re even travelling together is so I can make sure Mira stays safe. Keeping her on the sidelines during this battle is doing exactly that.”  
  
“But she’s perfectly capable of battling,” I argue through gritted teeth. “You can’t just protect her from every little thing that might hurt her.”  
  
Wally clenches his fist, crumpling the corner of the newspaper he’s holding. “Maybe not, but sending her out in a high-stakes battle that Roe can easily win is just unnecessary.”  
  
I pause, not wanting to give in that easily but at the same time realizing he’s got a point. Is it really any skin off my nose to keep Mira from battling if Roe can get the job done twice as easily? If we’re going to travel together for the foreseeable future, maybe I should try to keep the peace.  
  
“Fine,” I say, casting a hesitant glance in Mira’s direction. “Have it your way, Wally.”  
  
***  
  
Brendan rejoins us early in the evening, having flown back to Littleroot this morning to tend to some of his duties as Professor. After an afternoon of preparing Roe for tomorrow’s battle and a rather delicious dinner on Wally’s dime, we retire to our rooms in the Pokemon Center to get some sleep.  
  
Wally’s room is on the first floor, but Brendan and I are next door neighbors for the night. We walk side-by-side down the narrow hallway, each carrying a large tinfoil Swanna of leftovers. When we reach our rooms, Brendan takes mine off my hands so I can unlock my door. I’m about to go in but swivel around at the last second to face him.  
  
“Can I get your opinion on something Pokemon-related?” I ask quickly, keys dangling in my hand.  
  
Brendan tilts his head to one side and grins. “Well I would hope so. I _am_ a Pokemon Professor after all.”  
  
I snort and shift my weight so I can lean against the wall. “Do you think that not letting Mira battle tomorrow would disappoint her?”  
  
Brendan furrows his brow, looking off in one direction as he contemplates the question. “I suppose that would depend on her personality. Are you not using her against Roxanne tomorrow?”  
  
“Wally doesn’t want me to,” I reply in a quiet voice, irrationally paranoid that he might hear us talking about him. The last thing I need right now is to ruffle his feathers.  
  
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Brendan says with a sigh. “He’d rather die than let anything happen to Niko’s kid.”  
  
I let out an exasperated huff. “So am I just supposed to treat her with kid gloves forever?”  
  
Brendan shakes his head. “Nah, you’ve just gotta be patient with Wally. He won’t always be so uptight about it.”  
  
“The idea of Wally n _ot_ having a stick perpetually up his ass is a foreign one,” I remark with a cynical grin.  
  
 _“I know I know,”_ Brendan starts, a knowing smirk creeping onto his face that only confirms my disbelief. “Wally’s just kind of like that, to be honest. Very protective of who he loves.”  
  
I shrug and take my leftovers from him. “I suppose that’s a good thing. Let’s hope he’s not overprotective forever, though.”  
  
Brendan smiles and shrugs back. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to get him to loosen up a bit.”  
  
The thought makes me chuckle. “That’ll be the day,” I mutter, pushing the door to my room open with my free hand. “Anyways, have a good night.”  
  
“You too, Lilian,” Brendan says as he offers me a playful salute. I close the heavy door behind me and lock it, shuddering as I consider the possibility of paparazzi following me back here after my battle tomorrow. I’m sure some will catch wind of it.  
  
The room is small and rather plain, but has everything that I need for the evening. After changing into my pajamas and brushing my teeth, I flop down belly-first onto the bed and stare at my three Pokeballs resting on the nightstand. It’s hard to believe that this time last week, I was miserable and putting on such a ridiculous act. I’m not exactly loving life at the moment, but at least I don’t have to pretend anymore.  
  
Biting my lip, I reach for Mira’s ball and release her. She looks around the room in a dazed manner before her big eyes eventually settle on me. She coos and reaches her arms towards me, and when I pick her up she snuggles into my chest. Her little hands dig into the fabric of my nightshirt, gripping me tightly.  
  
When I finally manage to pull her away from me, I place her on the pillow and sit cross-legged to face her. “Mira, is it okay if just Roe battles tomorrow at the Gym?”  
  
My fear is realized as Mira begins to pout, turning her head away from me. I sigh and pat her on the head. “It’s just that Roe is really strong against Rock types, and Wally isn’t sure you’re strong enough to-”  
  
Mira interrupts me by jumping down from the bed and waddling over to the small flatscreen in the room. She holds both hands to her head and narrows her eyes, emitting a vibrant psychic wave that envelops the remote and tosses it violently across the room. The back of it cracks open against the wall, causing the batteries to spill out onto the worn red carpet. I don’t speak Mira’s language, but I have a feeling that the defiant gesture roughly translates to _“Screw you, mom.”_  
  
I scold her and recall her immediately, but deep in the pit of my stomach I know she’s right. Mira might not be the most effective choice against Roxanne’s team, but she’s more than capable of battling. Even I can tell that she’s gotten much stronger just in the week she’s been alive, and I’m a newbie Trainer.  
  
Despite that, though, I don’t want to rock the boat with Wally. I place Mira’s Pokeball back onto the nightstand with a weary hand and switch off the last light in the room, hoping that she forgives me sooner rather than later.


	11. Chapter 11

Enter from up-stage. Address the center camera with a wave. Turn stage left, camera in the upper corner of the arena. Cross to stage right, wave as you go. Cameras everywhere. Big smiles. Bright eyes.  
  
None of this is new to me. I watch as Roxanne, rocking a smart gray pantsuit and sensible heels, hits her marks and addresses the crowd like a pro. Her stage presence is excellent, despite the rather uptight schoolteacher vibe I’m getting from her. She’s doing everything they teach you to do when performing in front of an audience and a plethora of cameras.  
  
I, however, do _not_ plan on following suit.  
  
My gaze is fixed straight ahead and my jaw is clenched so tight it hurts. I refuse to smile for the cameras, instead adopting a permanent scowl that I plan on wearing for the duration of the battle. In my peripheral, I spot a blur of unmistakable green to my right. Seems as though Wally and Brendan got front-row seats. I sure hope the tabloids don’t notice them here; I don’t need them speculating about my non-existent love life.  
  
Roxanne stares me down from across the jagged, rocky battlefield as the announcer drones on and on about the Gym challenge rules. Her crimson eyes flash behind thick-rimmed glasses, and I become unsettled at the idea of this lady schooling me in front of hundreds of people. Even so, I know that I can’t let her see me sweat.  
  
“Miss Meridian, are you ready?” Roxanne calls out to me, one Pokeball in hand and the other resting beside her on a table carved out of stone.  
  
“Yes,” I reply, biting my lip. Roxanne tosses her Pokeball into the air and I reach for my own. The plan is simple: Roe Bulldozes over and over until both Pokemon have fainted. It’s super effective and Roxanne doesn’t have a counter to it. Wally’s assured me I’m guaranteed to win.  
  
The Geodude that Roxanne sends out pounds the ground with its meaty fists when it materializes, letting out a garbled roar as it barrels towards Roe. As planned, Roe stomps her feet into the rocky terrain, sending shock waves through the earth. The Geodude groans as it tumbles backwards, shaken by Roe’s powerful attack. It presses on, using its hands to swing across the battlefield and pummel Roe with its boulder of a body.  
  
“Roe, Bulldoze one more time!” I call out. Roe does as she’s told and finishes the Geodude off, but as she scampers back towards me I can tell she’s exhausted. Her breath is staggered and eyes cloudy with fatigue. I hesitate as I watch Roxanne recall her Geodude and reach for the next Pokeball.  
  
“This would be the time to switch Pokemon if you’re planning to, Miss Meridian,” Roxanne says into the microphone clipped to the lapel of her jacket. I shake my head instinctively, trying to stay focused on the plan that Wally set forth for me. It’s guaranteed to work, and I’ll win. But something about it doesn’t feel right.  
  
My breath hitches as I watch the bulky Nosepass appear on the battlefield with a massive thud. Roe digs her hands and feet into the ground, bracing herself for the battle to come. The Nosepass growls lowly, arms winding up as if reading itself to attack.  
  
“Come back!” I yell, noticeably startling Roxanne and even myself a little. Roe turns to me in confusion and I recall her, quickly swapping her out for Mira. I don’t dare even _glance_ at Wally.  
  
When Mira emerges from her Pokeball, she greets me with a sour glare. Once she gets her bearings, however, the look on her face transforms into one of delight. She squares up and hisses at the Nosepass looming over her. For some reason, this prompts the audience to erupt in applause.  
  
Roxanne raises an eyebrow at me. “Ralts is an interesting choice for this match. I hope you realize you’ll be fighting an uphill battle, Miss Meridian.”  
  
“You don’t know the half of it,” I grumble into my mic, thinking of Wally.  
  
Roxanne nods, gesturing at Mira with an outstretched hand. “Very well. Use Tackle.”  
  
“Confusion!” I blurt out, my blood running cold as I watch the Nosepass charge across the field. Mira obliges but Nosepass shrugs off the attack with relative ease, crashing into Mira’s frail body with a loud smack. The audience gasps and I swear I hear Wally above the rest of them.  
  
“Shit,” I mutter to myself, hands flying to cover my mouth as my mic picks up the audio.  
  
Roxanne casts a disapproving look in my direction, but I ignore her to check on Mira. She’s dirty from the dusty ground and she’s shaking, but she doesn’t seem as hurt as the impact would’ve implied. I frantically search my mind for some sort of strategy. I _know_ Mira can take this thing down, I just have to figure out how.  
  
“Finish this with Rock Tomb,” Roxanne says quietly, averting her eyes as Nosepass readies itself to deal the final blow. The audience falls silent, and it’s then that inspiration strikes.  
  
I straighten up and point at the Nosepass. “Mira, confuse it.”  
  
With quivering arms, Mira manages to shoot off a series of murky orbs across the battlefield. Once they catch the attention of Nosepass, Mira sends them spinning through the air. Nosepass twists itself to follow them, falling over and landing on the ground with a deafening thud.  
  
“Try it again,” Roxanne instructs Nosepass through gritted teeth. I can tell she’s trying to maintain her composure, but our little trick undoubtedly annoyed her.  
  
“Double Team?” I counter, but it comes out sounding more like a question. Nevertheless, Mira blinks and suddenly, there’s a dozen of her surrounding the Nosepass. It swivels around in confusion, eventually settling on one of the copies to attack. It chooses wrong, rushing through the copy and slamming into the low wall that separates the crowd from us.  
  
When I turn to bear witness to the commotion, I’m faced with Wally. He stares at me from the first row of seats, Brendan’s hand gripping his shoulder and Cleo regarding him with concern. I expect Wally to look pissed off, but something in my heart pangs when I see the look of pure terror on his face.  
  
“ _We can do this,_ ” I find myself saying into my mic, surprising myself and the rest of the audience as they murmur among themselves . Wally’s mouth goes slightly agape, but I turn my attention back towards the battle as I realize Nosepass has shaken off and is preparing another attack. “Again, Mira!” I shout.  
  
Once more, Mira sends those dizzying orbs flying and Nosepass falls victim to confusion. Per my instruction, she uses Double Team again and eleven copies of her appear. An irritated Roxanne crosses her arms in front of her. “I must say, I’m growing rather weary of this battle.”  
  
“Well good thing I’m about to end it,” I bite back. I hear a few laughs from the audience, one I immediately recognize as Brendan’s.  
  
Roxanne lets out a short, sarcastic chuckle. “Is that so? Nosepass, Rock Tomb them all.”  
  
Breaking through its confusion, Nosepass thrusts its arms into the ground and digs up a myriad of boulders, sending them rocketing through the air towards every last copy of Mira. Surely one of them will hit the real her.  
  
“Send it back!” I yell. I kick myself for not being more specific, but Mira seems to know exactly what I’m talking about. As the duplicates of her vanish, she slides backwards towards me and concentrates all of her psychic energy on the rock barreling at her. Concentrating all of her effort, she manages to shoot it back at Nosepass. The rock hits it square in the nose, causing it to screech in pain and drop to the ground.  
  
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flag being waved in the air. “The match is over! The challenger has won!”  
  
I sink to my knees, holding out my arms for Mira to run into. The crowd explodes, their cheers enveloping me as I hug Mira close to my chest. Roxanne scowls at me but ultimately claps along with everyone else. My head is pounding and my breathing is heavy, but I feel relieved. She did it. _We_ did it.  
  
***  
  
“That was one hell of a battle.”  
  
I glance over and see Brendan grinning at me as he leans against the doorframe of the challengers suite. Renzo is perched atop his shoulder and mirroring his ecstatic expression.  
  
“Thanks,” I reply weakly, turning the smooth Stone Badge over in my hand. It feels cold to the touch and oddly heavy for such a small thing. “Where’s Wally?”  
  
Brendan cocks his head in the direction of the lobby. “Went to go get some air. He’s still a bit shaken up.”  
  
I slump down on the plush leather couch, feeling a twinge of guilt pluck at me. “Do you think he’s mad at me?”  
  
“Hard to say,” Brenda replies, pushing his hands in his pockets. “But between you and me, I think he was more afraid than angry.”  
  
“That’s fair,” I mumble, sneaking a glance at Mira and Roe. They're snuggled up on a floor cushion, snoozing under a knit blanket. No doubt both of them are exhausted after our match.  
  
“Anyways,” Brendan continues, gesturing to the PC in the corner of the room. “They wanted me to tell you that your sister is on line two.”  
  
I blink at him for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “Alright, thanks for letting me know.”  
  
Brendan nods and takes his leave, closing the door behind him. I rise from the couch and trudge over to the PC, stepping around Mira and Roe as I do so. Why do they get to take a nap _and_ not have to talk to my sister? They're lucky girls, those two.  
  
I fiddle with the touch screen for a while before finally figuring out how to answer the call. Once I do, Vivian appears on the display. Judging by the familiar contest hall background and the fact that she’s in her costume, I can only assume she’s about to MC.  
  
“I saw your battle,” she remarks with disdain, twisting a lock of curly hair around her finger. “It was on in my dressing room while I was in hair and makeup.”  
  
“Hello to you too, Vivian,” I reply sarcastically as I cross my arms in front of me. Vivian clears her throat in a delicate manner, reaching off-camera to grab a teacup. She takes a few tiny sips and I roll my eyes, wondering why she even called me if she was just going to have her afternoon tea.  
  
After what seems like an eternity, she places the empty teacup down and shoots me a judgemental look. “When are you going to stop goofing off? You have a job to do.”  
  
“I _quit_ that job,” I bite back, glaring at her as I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “When are you and mom going to get that through your heads?”  
  
“I suppose it doesn’t just make sense to me,” Vivian remarks, offering me a demure shrug. “One day you’re a minor celebrity and the next you’re slumming it with some random dude and making this pathetic attempt at being a Trainer?”  
  
My hands fly to my hips as I scowl at her. “If you saw the match like you said, you’d know that nothing about it was pathetic.”  
  
Vivian lets out a sharp exhale. “Lilian, you’re being ridiculous. You made great money being an MC, got to travel for free, and you’re great at it. You’re going to let one gross creep ruin that for you?”  
  
“That’s just it Viv,” I reply, beginning to shake as I dig my fingers into my sweater. “It wasn’t just one creep. That entire job was just me prancing around in skintight clothes and being leered at.”  
  
“It wasn’t just that and you know it,” Vivian says, turning her nose up in the air. “Being a master of ceremonies requires stage presence, public speaking skills, procedural knowledge…..I could go on and on. Don’t reduce it to just being eye candy.”  
  
I shake my head and fight the urge to roll my eyes at her again. “You don’t get it,” I reply, glancing down at my feet. “Mom made your brand being the classy, elegant one. All I ever was meant to be was some pseudo-sporty tease. My brand was to be eye candy.”  
  
Vivian sighs, blinking her false eyelashes at me. “Mom just wants what’s best for you, Lilian.”  
  
“No,” I snap, feeling myself reaching my breaking point. “Mom wants what’s best for _her._ Always has, always will. Maybe one day you’ll realize that.” And with that, I forcefully jab the screen to end the call.


	12. Chapter 12

When I’m sure the coast is clear and free of paparazzi, I exit Rustboro Gym with Mira in tow and make my way towards Wally and Brendan. They are sitting on a park bench in front of the gym- Wally staring off into the distance and Brendan twiddling his thumbs.  
  
My heart pounds in my chest but I inch towards them anyways, mentally preparing my speech to Wally about how I’m _sorry_ that I just decided in the moment that Mira deserved a chance to battle but I figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission and it didn’t turn out so bad and-  
  
“You know what the funny thing is?” Wally suddenly starts, interrupting my train of thought and causing me to freeze in my tracks. He acknowledges my presence with his words but not his eyes, which are unblinking as they stare straight ahead.  
  
“What?” I ask, caution creeping into my voice as I side-eye Brendan. All he has to offer me is a shrug, indicating that he doesn’t have any idea where Wally’s going with this either.  
  
An odd look spreads fast across Wally’s face. It is a curious mixture of pensive and nostalgic, and for some reason it prompts me to pull Mira closer to my chest. “As upset as I am that Mira battled today, I’m equal parts happy,” he says.  
  
I am stunned, to say the least. “You’re _happy?_ I thought you’d be pissed.”  
  
Wally seems to hesitate for a moment before shaking his head at me. “I can’t lie, I’m a little mad with your unilateral decision to have her battle,” he replies, breaking his mile-long stare to shoot me a sideways glance. “But honestly, I think I owe you an apology.”  
  
“Exc-cuse me?” I sputter, blinking rapidly at him. Is this a prank or something?  
  
Wally sighs and crosses his arms across his chest. “I was wrong about Mira not being ready,” he mutters, averting his gaze to the ground. “After seeing her battle Roxanne, it’s clear to me that she’s more than capable. Plus, it was great seeing how much she enjoyed herself."  
  
“Wally’s admitting he was wrong about something?” Brendan remarks, eyeing the two of us in amusement as I stand before them in shock. “You’ve really brought out the best in him, Lilian.”  
  
An irritating heat flushes my face, which is only somewhat quelled as Wally rolls his eyes at Brendan’s observation. “I can admit when I’m wrong,” he retorts in a heavily defensive tone. “Besides, Mira was who really changed my mind.”  
  
“I’m sure,” I reply quickly. “She was great.”  
  
“She was,” Wally agrees with a nod. “Nikolai would’ve been so proud of her.”  
  
“That’s what I said!” Brendan laughs, clapping Wally on the shoulder. “Doesn’t she remind you of him when he was little?”  
  
A warm smile brushes across Wally’s lips. “She does. The resemblance is uncanny.”  
  
“Don’t all Ralts just kind of look the same?” I ask, scanning Mira for some quality that would differentiate her from others of her kind. From what I can tell, she’s just a run-of-the-mill Ralts.  
  
Brendan is quick to shake his head, adjusting his bandana as he does so. “Perhaps they would to someone who hasn’t trained a Ralts for a long period of time, but there are a myriad of differences that members of a species can possess,” he explains, sounding more like a Pokemon Professor than I’ve ever heard from him.  
  
“Brendan’s right,” Wally agrees, digging through his bag for a polaroid that he then shows to me. “This is Nikolai when he was about Mira’s age. See how their horns are a little bigger than the average Ralts? And how their eyes are a deeper red?”  
  
I squint at the picture for a few moments before shrugging. “I guess.”  
  
Wally sighs and pockets the photograph. “You’ll be able to see it more once you’ve been training Mira for longer.”  
  
Not a second later, Mira begins squirming in my arms and whining as she paws at my bag. It’s only when I hear an unmistakable gurgle of her stomach that I realize she’s hungry.  
  
“Can’t blame you for wanting food,” I say to her, setting her down as I rummage in my bag for Roe and Sage’s pokeballs. “All that battling must’ve really worked up an appetite.”  
  
Mira nods furiously and lets out a delighted squeal when Roe and Sage materialize. I kneel down and pour them each a bowl of PokePellets, careful to fill them with equal amounts. The last time I accidentally slighted Roe, she tried to bite me.  
  
“By the way,” Brendan starts as he cracks his knuckles. “Steven left a message while you were battling. He wants the three of us to meet him at the Stone Estate as soon as we can.”  
  
“Estate?” I reply, quirking an eyebrow. “How very _fancy._ ”  
  
“He’s more than earned such a nice home,” Wally says to me as he casts a dirty look in my direction. “On top of being Devon Corp’s president, he was the champion of Hoenn for over ten years.”  
  
“Well he couldn’t have been _that_ amazing at it if someone dethroned him,” I retort, glancing down at the girls as they eat. Mira and Roe seem to be competing for who can chow down the fastest, while Sage merely grazes.  
  
Wally pulls a face and Brendan lets out a long sigh. “He actually stepped down voluntarily a few months ago,” Brendan says, a sadness coloring his voice. “His father had a heart attack and left Devon Corp without a president.”  
  
“Oh,” I say, feeling like an idiot. “That’s terrible.”  
  
“Steven was devastated,” Wally pipes up as he glares at me. “Besides Zinnia, his dad was his best friend.”  
  
“I know the feeling,” I mutter. Both Wally and Brendan shoot me curious looks, but before I can elaborate, Mira begins shouting at my feet.  
  
Startled by the sudden commotion, I take a few instinctive steps back. Mira and Roe are swatting at a stranger to our little lunch break- a Vulpix who is casually helping herself to their bowls of PokePellets.  
  
Brendan starts to laugh as I crouch down and attempt to shoo our unwelcome visitor away. “This food isn’t for you missy! Go find your Trainer.”  
  
The Vulpix gives me a withering look before turning her nose up at my command, continuing to nibble at the food. Mira begins to whine as tears roll down her cheeks, and Roe growls menacingly. Neither of their reactions seem to deter the Vulpix.  
  
Wally reaches into his bag and pulls out his Pokedex, holding it up to the Vulpix. “I don’t think she has a Trainer,” he announces. “Seems like she’s a wild Pokemon.”  
  
“That still doesn’t give her an excuse to chow down on _my_ Pokemon’s food,” I grumble, still trying and failing to shoo her away. “You better be careful- I might just try to catch you if you don’t scram.”  
  
The Vulpix immediately pulls herself away from the food, sniffling as she begins to slowly trot away. She moves at a Slugma’s pace, occasionally casting nonchalant glances back at our group.  
  
“I think...I think she’s trying to _play hard to get_ ,” Brendan says with amusement, scribbling furious notes on a pad of paper he whips out of his pocket. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Pokemon do that. It’s fascinating.”  
  
“You should try to catch her,” Wally says as he hands me an empty Pokeball. “Although adding another female to the team means I’m even _more_ outnumbered.”  
  
I tilt my head to observe the Vulpix, trying and failing to act like she doesn’t want any part of our group. “Alright, you wanna battle? If you lose I’m gonna catch you.”  
  
The Vulpix whirls around, barking at me as she bares her teeth. I smirk, motioning for Mira to come closer. “You think you’re up for one more battle today?”  
  
Mira straightens up, raising her hands to her hips in a proud stance. The Vulpix digs her heels into the ground, crouching low before breathing a small burst of fire that hits Mira square in the chest. She stumbles, wincing as her butt hits the floor.  
  
I squint hard at the Vulpix before issuing the next command. “Double Team. That attack doesn’t seem to have enough range to hit all of your copies.”  
  
Mira obliges, her multiples sending the Vulpix into a frustrated tizzy. She snarls as she trots up to each one of them, biting at their wispy bodies in vain. Soon enough, Double Team wears off and she rushes over to the real Mira, knocking her to the ground once again.  
  
“Confusion!” I exclaim. Mira concentrates her psychic efforts and emits enough energy to send the Vulpix flying. Once she regains her bearings, the Vulpix sprints towards Mira at lightning speed- a blur of red that catches Mira off guard and swiftly bodies her.  
  
“Use Confuse Ray!” I shout, narrowing my eyes at our opponent. She’s got spunk, I’ll give her that.  
  
Mira conjures up her dizzying ray, but the Vulpix surprises me by firing back the exact same attack. Both of them totter around in circles, dazed and confused and completely unable to land any attacks. On the sidelines, Brendan and Wally chuckle at the admittedly amusing display.  
  
Luckily, Mira is the one who breaks free from her confusion first. I grin, thoroughly amused by this battle. “Confusion one more time, Mira!”  
  
Mira deals the final blow and knocks the disoriented Vulpix down. Seeing my chance, I toss the Pokeball in her direction. It wiggles violently back and forth for a few moments, making me doubt that our efforts were enough to weaken it. But sure enough, the Pokeball eventually settles down and emits a ping of confirmation.  
  
Brendan begins to clap and Mira happily shouts towards the sky. Roe and Sage rush over to the Pokeball, eager to say hello to their new teammate. I stride over to the Pokeball, scooping it up and releasing the Vulpix. When she materializes, she turns her nose up at my attempts to pet her.  
  
“You put up a good fight,” I say to her with a smile. “Welcome to the team.”  
  
She turns her nose up at this remark too, but simultaneously eyes me with intrigue. Wally laughs as he and Brendan approaches us. “I have a feeling this one is going to give you a run for your money.”  
  
“You know, I’m getting the same vibe,” I agree, wincing as she nips at my fingers. “I suppose I’ve got to name you. How about Amber?”  
  
The Vulpix sneers at me and I raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, you don’t like that one? How about Kali?”  
  
She scoffs at the suggestion. “Kiki?”  
  
Scoff.  
  
“Piper?”  
  
Eye roll.  
  
 _“Ginger?_ ” I try through a clenched jaw. Thank Arceus she doesn’t object to that one- I’m running out of names. She simply blinks at me, and I swear I see the smallest of smiles on her narrow face.  
  
“Ginger it is!” I exclaim before she has a chance to change her mind, clasping my hands together. “This is Mira, Roe, and Sage.”  
  
Roe and Sage sniff at her excitedly, but Mira grumbles when I try to get her to introduce herself. Ginger rolls her eyes when I finally manage to get Mira to say hello, which prompts both of them to begin snapping at each other.  
  
“It’s not uncommon for a new teammate and the Pokemon that helped catch them to be standoffish towards each other,” Brendan explains, once again jotting down notes. “They’ll warm up to each other eventually, don’t worry.”  
  
As Mira and Ginger continue to bicker, Wally checks his watch. “We should get going, Steven and Zinnia are expecting us.”  
  
“Lead the way,” I say, scooping up the empty food bowls and following Brendan and Wally as they head north. Hopefully the Stones have figured out why Team Aqua has resurfaced and what their game plan is. I have a bad feeling that whatever it is, it’s even more sinister than what they attempted before.


	13. Chapter 13

Zinnia greets us at the door of the massive and lavish Stone Estate, a cocktail in one hand and a cigar in the other. “It’s not a very ladylike habit, I know,” she says, a mischievous smile gracing her painted lips. “Call it my guilty pleasure.”  
  
“No judgement here,” I mutter, gazing around at the sheer opulence of everything as we step inside. The floors are a glittering black marble, swirled with occasional faint streaks. Pristine white walls reach at least thirty feet high, and intricate crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Taking a cursory glance around this place, I conclude it must be at least five times the size of my mother’s own mansion.  
  
“We usually have one of our employees answer the door,” Zinnia explains as she leads us up a sweeping spiral staircase. “But I wanted to personally greet you all and bring you to Steven’s study.” She is much less dressed up today than our previous encounter, swapping her dress and heels for a black velour tracksuit and fluffy house slippers. Despite the more casual attire, she still looks impeccable.  
  
“Much appreciated, thank you,” Wally pipes up, hastily dusting some imaginary dirt off of his jacket. He’s had to have been here before- given his history with Steven- but the gesture makes me wonder if he might feel out of place amongst such obvious wealth.  
  
As we stroll down an almost comically long hallway, I hear a noise that stops me dead in my tracks and has me seeing red. A whistle, so clearly aimed at me, coming from a polo-clad man wearing a cheeky grin and carrying a stack of folded towels. When our eyes meet, he offers me a wink that makes my blood boil. Not wanting to make a scene in front of our host, I opt to scowl at him and silently shrink into my sweater instead.  
  
“You’re fired,” Zinnia states flatly, without faltering or breaking her stride. The man’s idiotic expression slides right off his face, and he throws the towels down on the floor before stomping away. Another man in a polo wastes no time in picking them up and tossing them down a laundry chute.  
  
Brendan, Wally and I stand frozen for a few moments before Zinnia finally turns around. “What?” she asks with an air of dismissiveness as she continues to walk down the hall. “You think we stand for sexual harassment around here?”  
  
“That was ...pretty awesome of you,” Brendan admits with a laugh, jogging to catch up with her.  
  
I nod earnestly as Wally and I follow behind them at a slower pace. “Yeah, thanks for that. You’re more protective than my own mother.”  
  
Zinnia turns her head and juts her lower lip out in sympathy. “Mothers can be tough.”  
  
We round a corner and stop in front of two looming french doors that obstruct our view into the study with frosted glass. Zinnia knocks a closed fist against the pane before pushing the doors open with outstretched arms, a drop or two of her martini consequently sloshing to the ground.  
  
The study is strikingly dissimilar to the rest of the estate. Rather than glistening marble and black accents, the room is all dark woods and warm tones. Floor to ceiling bookcases stretch across every single inch of wall space, crammed with an assortment of novels and memoirs. Steven sits at a long, burnished desk in the center of the room, feet propped up on the surface and lazily spinning a yellowed globe with his pointer finger. It is clear that this room is more or less a man-cave.  
  
“Good afternoon everyone,” Steven smiles, removing his feet from the desk and straightening up in his seat. “And congratulations on your first gym challenge victory, Lilian.”  
  
“Oh yes,” Zinnia gushes, gesturing for us to take a seat on an expensive-looking couch. “Your Trapinch was just _darling._ ”  
  
“Thank you,” I reply, nodding at both of them as I settle between Wally and Brendan. Zinnia moves to a crimson velvet armchair and plops down with a content sigh, putting her cigar out in an ashtray shaped like a Shelgon.  
  
“New additions to the collection, Steven?” Wally asks, turning his head to the right.  
  
I crane my neck to follow his line of sight and widen my eyes at the myriad of glistening stones in the corner of the room. Three wooden shelves house rocks of various colors and textures, some dull but most shimmering under the small, warm lights pointed at them. There are several bigger displays clustered around each other, consisting of larger rocks placed atop marble pedestals. A chunky amethyst catches my eye, as well as a radiant blue stone surrounded by thick glass in the center of them all.  
  
Steven laughs and rises from his seat, striding over to the collection. “Guilty as charged,” he replies, making minuscule adjustments to a few of the stones on the middle shelf. “I couldn’t help grabbing a few the last time I visited Granite Cave. Remind me of my old man and our excursions there.”  
  
“Sorry to hear about his passing, by the way,” I blurt out, cheeks tinging a slight shade of pink as Steven turns to look at me. “I lost my dad when I was little. I can’t imagine how much harder it would’ve been to lose him at your age.”  
  
I can feel both Wally and Brendan boring holes in my head with their inquisitive glances. Steven offers me a sad smile from across the room. “Much appreciated, Lilian. It might’ve been harder this way, but I’m grateful I had the forty years with him that I did.”  
  
“Of course,” I murmur, pondering that statement for a quiet moment. What kind of person would I be today if my father was still around? Maybe he would’ve eventually stood up to my mother- if not for his daughters’ sake, then perhaps his own.  
  
Zinnia interrupts my train of thought as she clears her throat, placing her now empty martini glass on the side table next to her. “We should probably discuss the matter at hand, now that everyone’s here.”  
  
Brendan nods, glancing between Steven and Zinnia. “We want to know everything the two of you found out about Aqua.”  
  
“Certainly,” Steven says, his expression darkening as he walks across the room. Once he sits down, he intertwines his fingers and places his hands on the desk, regarding us all with cloudy eyes. “After asking around, it does appear that Aqua is attempting to make a comeback.”  
  
Wally inhales sharply and Brendan begins massaging his temples. I cross one leg over the other, biting my lip as I contemplate Steven’s announcement. “Do you know any specifics?”  
  
“We know that there have been more instances of their grunts trying to steal Pokemon,” Steven answers, digging around in his desk drawer for a thin blue folder. He reaches for thick-rimmed reading glasses and puts them on, scanning a sheet of paper from the folder. “According to eyewitness testimonies, there have been over fifty theft attempts across the region since the beginning of the month.”  
  
“Arceus, that’s a lot,” Wally says with a furrowed brow. “How many successful?”  
  
“Forty seven,” Zinnia pipes up, hugging her knees to her chest. “Lilian and her Trapinch were quite the lucky ones, getting away like they did.”  
  
“This is bad,” Brendan says, taking out his notepad and hastily scribbling in it. “Best case, they’re just stealing to steal. Worst case…”  
  
“They have something more sinister planned,” Steven finishes, removing his glasses and practically throwing them down on the desk. “Which I think we all know is the more likely option.”  
  
“Are both orbs secured?” Wally asks. I narrow my eyes at the statement. Orbs?  
  
Steven lets out an affirmative grunt. “The Red Orb is at an undisclosed location, and the Blue Orb is with me.”  
  
“You don’t know where the Red Orb is?” Zinnia asks, plucking the olive out of her empty glass and popping it into her mouth. “Shouldn’t we determine that so it can be kept safe?”  
  
“It is safe,” Steven replies in a reassuring voice. “Whoever has it doesn’t know I have the Blue Orb, and vice versa. It’s a safety measure to make sure no one person knows where both of them are.”  
  
“What exactly are these orbs you’re referring to?” I ask in confusion.  
  
Steven stares at me blankly before eventually cocking an eyebrow at me. “Pardon my asking, but have you been living under a rock until now?”  
  
“I was a home-schooled five year old with an overbearing stage mom and a newly dead dad when this whole Aqua fiasco happened,” I shoot back. “Excuse me for not knowing all the details.”  
  
Steven turns bright red and shakes his head. “No, no, I apologize,” he mutters. “I’ll let Wally or Brendan explain.”  
  
Brendan stares at me with his mouth agape and Wally sighs before pointing in the direction of Steven’s rock collection. “See that blue one in the center? That’s what remains of the Blue Orb.”  
  
I glance over at the blue stone I was admiring earlier. “Why is that little rock so special?”  
  
“It summons Kyogre,” Wally explains, crossing his arms. “And the Red Orb summons Groudon.”  
  
I nod my head as I squint at the piece of the Blue Orb. “The Legendary Pokemon of Hoenn, yeah.”  
  
“Surprised you know who they are,” Wally mutters. I glare at him and give him a swift kick in the side of the leg. He yelps and elbows me roughly.  
  
“ _Anyways,_ ” Brendan continues, tucking his notepad into his pocket. “Seventeen years ago, Team Aqua used the Blue Orb to summon Kyogore. Both orbs got shattered in the process. And because there’s so little of them left, both are needed to summon either legendary now”  
  
“Precisely,” Steven says, spinning the globe on his desk once more. Upon closer inspection, I see small push pins lodged into the surface. They must be marking where he’s traveled to.  
  
My eyes meet Steven’s and he stops the globe with his palm. “So if I’m understanding this correctly, they can’t actually get up to their old shenanigans unless they have both orbs?” I ask.  
  
In my peripheral, I see Zinnia give me a thumbs up. “You got it!" she exclaims. "And even if they somehow find the Red Orb, we won’t let them anywhere near the Blue Orb. Isn’t that right, honey?  
  
Steven nods, adopting a grim expression once again. “I’ll protect it with my life. I refuse to let Hoenn be plunged into eternal rain once again.”  
  
“Are we even sure that’s what Aqua’s plan is?” Wally asks with a frown. "How is stealing Pokemon even related to that?"  
  
“Unfortunately, we still don’t know exactly what they’re up to,” Steven remarks, adjusting his cuff links as he regards Wally. “I’m still investigating, but I'll make sure to contact you all ASAP once we’re made aware of a more definitive plan.”  
  
Brendan rises from the couch and places his hands on his hips as he takes a long, deep breath. “What can we do to help?”  
  
Sighing, Steven leans back in his chair. “Not much right now. However, there _is_ something that I must warn you three of.”  
  
“What’s that?” Wally asks, concern creeping into his voice.  
  
Steven and Zinnia share a worried look. “You all need to be extremely vigilant while travelling from now on,” Steven starts, continuing to look at Zinnia. “Aqua knows I’m working to take them down, and they also know that Brendan and Wally are associates of mine. We all have targets on our backs, effective immediately.”  
  
I swallow, pushing a lump down my throat as I feel myself begin to perspire. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
Steven glances at me, his face contorting to display a look of utmost seriousness. “It means that if an Aqua member tries to corner you, you run. You run like hell.”


	14. Chapter 14

The voyage to Dewford Town is silent and tense, with the low hum of Mr. Briney’s boat having lulled my Pokemon to sleep rather quickly. I sit cross-legged at one end of the deck, caressing Mira’s weary head as she rests in my lap. Sage, Roe, and Ginger lay listless in front of me, bellies rising and falling with every gentle breath. The peaceful looks on their sleeping faces are the antithesis of my troubled expression.  
  
Wally sits at the other end of the deck, silent as he stares out at the glistening expanse of sea. When he raises a hand to run through his wind-blown hair, I can see that his face is marred with the same worry as mine.  
  
“What do we do about this shitshow of a situation?” I ask, breaking the hour-long silence that had settled like a suffocating fog between the two of us.  
  
Without tearing his gaze away from the water, Wally lets out a prolonged sigh. “Not much we can do, other than keep a low profile until Aqua’s taken down.”  
  
I snort, giving Mira a tender pat on the back as she stirs in her sleep. “ _Me_ keeping a low profile? I wish.”  
  
“About that,” Wally says, finally glancing in my direction. “I think it would be wise to postpone your Gym challenge.”  
  
“What?” I sputter, feeling my pulse quicken. “For how long?”  
  
Wally shrugs, intertwining his pale, slender fingers and cracking his knuckles. “At least until The Devon Corporation finishes investigating Aqua’s re-emergence.”  
  
“That could take months,” I whine, crossing my arms. “I don’t want to have to wait that long.”  
  
“What’s the sudden rush?” Wally asks, furrowing his brow at me. “You weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to challenge Roxanne.”  
  
“I just have a lot to prove, alright?” I reply, digging my fingers into my arms and shivering slightly as the wind begins to pick up. It rustles the fur on Ginger’s back, which prompts her face to scrunch up and her pointy ears to twitch.  
  
Wally shoots me a puzzled look. “To me? That’ll take way more than a few Gym battles.”  
  
“No you _ass,_ ” I hiss, swiping a few strands of rogue hair away from my face with one hand. “To my family.”  
  
“Oh,” Wally says simply. He remains quiet for a moment as he shifts against the worn wooden flooring of the deck. “They’ve been unsupportive since you started, though. Why are you just now getting so heated about it?”  
  
I can’t help but scowl at him. “Has anyone told you that you’re nosy as hell?”  
  
Wally raises his hands in surrender, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Hey, I was just making conversation. We don’t even have to talk- in fact, I’d prefer it that way if you’re going to be this cranky.”  
  
“Fine by me,” I mutter, clenching my jaw and fixing my stubborn gaze downward.  
  
To my chagrin, I now find myself seething over this little predicament of ours. I don’t know why, but my conversation with Vivian has me feeling more insecure about becoming a Trainer than I’d like to admit. And now instead of being able to prove her and my mother wrong, I have to wait? Possibly for _months?_  
  
A few minutes of tense silence pass between Wally and I before I realize I’d prefer to talk about it over quietly fuming. I let out an admittedly dramatic sigh and glance up at him. “My sister called me right after my battle with Roxanne, and let’s just say it didn’t go well.”  
  
Wally looks over at me and tilts his head to one side. “What happened?”  
  
“She just thinks I’m goofing off,” I mumble, biting the inside of my cheek. “She thinks I’m pathetic and that I should stick with what I’m good at.”  
  
“Do you think that?” Wally asks.  
  
The question gives me pause. I glance around at my team of four, still resting peacefully. Tears threaten to spring from my eyes when my gaze settles on Mira.  
  
“I don’t know,” I say to him, trying and failing to keep my voice measured. “We’ve had some great victories so far, but you’ve said it yourself- I’m lacking in a lot of areas as a Trainer.”  
  
“But you’re a beginner,” Wally replies matter of factly. “Everyone makes mistakes at the beginning. I know I did.”  
  
“I can’t picture you screwing up,” I say, wiping a rogue tear that managed to escape. “You’re way too uptight to be anything less than perfect.”  
  
Wally chuckles, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen me with Nikolai. I was a hot mess at the beginning.”  
  
“Lying to make me feel better won’t score you any points with me,” I shoot back, an irritated flush coloring my cheeks. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being pitied.  
  
“Lilian, I swear to Arceus I’m not lying,” Wally laughs, looking amused and embarrassed at the same time. “I was terrible. Brendan literally had to escort me around Hoenn making sure all of my Pokemon survived.”  
  
I narrow my eyes at him. “Really?”  
  
“For at least two or three months,” he responds, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nikolai had zero faith in me until I had a few badges under my belt. Oh and once, I accidentally poisoned Cleo.  
  
“Poisoned?” I ask, unsure if I heard him correctly. “The man who has a conniption every time I even _battle_ with Mira poisoned his Pokemon?”  
  
Wally rolls his eyes but confirms his previous statement with a nod. “She wanted some of the soda I was drinking, and being the dumb ten year old I was, gave her some without thinking twice. She was out of commission for like a week.”  
  
I snort, the biggest smile spreading across my face. “Alright yeah, so you’ve definitely fucked up once or twice. Even I know Pokemon can’t have soda.”  
  
“I’m glad my shortcomings delight you so much,” Wally shoots back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But yeah, even I’ve made mistakes. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”  
  
My smile fades as quickly as it arrived. “That’s only half the problem,” I say quietly. “Even if I thought I was the best damn Trainer in the world, my mother and sister still think I’m pathetic.”  
  
Wally seems to ponder this, looking rather pensive before giving me his signature shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to prove them wrong.”  
  
I stare at him for a moment, envious of how he can genuinely believe changing my family’s mind is even an option. I’ve learned a long time ago that breaking the status quo means losing any and all support or respect from them. There’s no way they’ll ever see this journey of mine as anything more than some sort of sad rebellion.  
  
Still, it would be nice to pretend for a minute. So I offer Wally a tight-lipped smile, and nod like I believe everything will be okay. “Yeah, I guess I’ll just prove them wrong.”  
  
  
***  
  
We reach Dewford Town just as the sun is beginning to kiss the horizon, bathing the quaint yet lively town in a warm wash of light. Wally scoops up a still-sleeping Roe and Ginger in his arms and hops off the boat, Sage fluttering close behind as she blinks her weary eyes. I hold Mira to my chest with one hand, extending the other to Mr. Briney so he can help me onto the dock. Wally and I say our goodbyes and wave him off, watching him sail away until the boat is just a tiny speck out at sea.  
  
It may nearly be nightfall in Dewford Town, but the atmosphere is anything but sleepy. The air is swirling with laughter and animated conversation, which quickly rouses the rest of my Pokemon from their slumber. Tiki torches line every path in town, illuminating the locals as they sear Magikarp kabobs on smoky grills and dance around crackling campfires. In the center of the town, a group of brawny shirtless men play the bongos, occasionally chanting in unison.  
  
Roe and Ginger jump down from Wally’s arms, scampering over to a group of people dancing to the music. He jogs after them, kicking up sand that tickles my bare ankles. I attempt to set Mira down on the ground, but she groans and buries her face into my chest.  
  
“Someone’s still sleepy,” I chuckle, recalling her into her Pokeball. Sage flits over and nudges Mira’s Pokeball with her nose, which I’m assuming is her way of telling me she also wants to retire for the evening. I recall her as well, tucking both Pokeballs back into my bag when they seem to have settled in.  
  
“These two are real pieces of work,” Wally grumbles as he walks back up to me, holding a squirming Roe under one arm and a pouting Ginger under the other. “Roe knocked a whole tray of kabobs to the ground and they both chowed down like they’ve never been fed before.”  
  
I quirk an eyebrow at both of them. “Don’t test my patience tonight, I’m not in the mood.”  
  
Roe bows her head shamefully and lets out a contritious garble. Ginger, on the other hand, turns her nose up at me. I’ve hardly gotten to know her, but I can already tell she’s going to be the biggest handful of them all.  
  
Without warning, my stomach begins to grumble violently. An amused-looking Wally tilts his head at me. “Maybe Roe and Ginger should’ve saved you a kabob.”  
  
“We haven’t eaten since this morning,” I mutter, glancing around the immediate area as I rub my stomach in a circular motion. “Wonder if we can just walk up to one of the grills and ask for some food.”  
  
As if on cue, a boisterous man wearing nothing but blue floral swim trunks claps me on the shoulder with a huge, tanned hand. “You kids look like you need some nourishment!” he bellows, flashing his pearly whites as he grins at me and Wally. He speaks with a rich accent that definitely isn’t from anywhere in Hoenn. “Come join the festivities, won’t you?”  
  
“Is there some sort of holiday on the island?” Wally inquires, setting Roe and Ginger on the ground. Roe whimpers and shimmies up to me, rubbing her dopey head against my leg as penance for her shenanigans. Ginger seems to roll her beady eyes at the remorseful display.  
  
“Indeed there is!” the man exclaims, making a broad gesture with his muscular arm. He looks to be about Steven’s age, with deep wrinkles around his happy eyes. “We always throw a little party on the first day of the month. Life is too short not to celebrate!”  
  
“Oh yeah, I suppose it’s September now,” I say. It’s a lot easier to tell when the seasons are changing in Kanto. Hoenn essentially just feels like it’s summertime all the time. I definitely missed that while I was away.  
  
“That’s right little lady,” the man replies, extending his hand out to me for a shake. “My name is Honi, by the way.”  
  
I offer my hand to him in return. “Lilian. This is Wally, Roe, and Ginger.”  
  
Honi gives Wally a handshake as well, and leans down to pet Roe and Ginger. Ginger especially eats up the attention, purring and preening like the diva she is.  
  
“So what’s this about some food?” I ask, wanting not to pry but also wanting some grub stat. At the mention of food, Wally’s stomach lets out a long, low grumble that startles Roe.  
  
“Oh yes!” Honi cries out, as if he forgot why he approached us in the first place. He points to a campfire in the center of the celebration, surrounded by several grills that seem like permanent fixtures in the sand. “Follow me this way, we have plenty of Slowpoke tail and Magikarp to go around! Plenty!”  
  
“Thank Arceus, we’re starving,” I reply, motioning for Roe and Ginger to follow behind. In a lower voice, I lean into Wally and say “I’ll have what he’s having. Dude’s like the Energizer Buneary.”  
  
Wally scoffs at me. “Compared to you, maybe. You’re a special breed of crotchety.”  
  
“I’m not _crotchety_ ,” I protest, crossing my arms as we weave in and out of the crowd. “I’m...disillusioned.”  
  
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Wally snorts, shaking his head at me.  
  
Honi leads us to the central campfire, gesturing for us to take a seat on one of the many colorful blankets on the ground. I dust some sand off of a blue one and plop myself down, while Wally settles onto an orange one across from me. Roe and Ginger, ever restless, opt to chase each other around the campfire.  
  
“Magikarp or Slowpoke?” Honi asks over the buzz of surrounding conversations, picking up a pair of silver tongs and poking at the food sizzling on the grill.  
  
“Magikarp, please,” Wally pipes up, bowing his head in thanks as Honi places several kabobs on a paper plate and hands them over. I shrug at Honi, not really having much of a preference beyond something hot and edible. He opts to serve me both, passing me a plate of two kabobs and a thick, juicy Slowpoke tail.  
  
I reach into my bag and grab a half-empty box of Pokepellets, but Honi holds up a hand at me. “That won’t be necessary. We have plenty of food for the Pokemon as well.” At that, two Bellossom holding wooden bowls of fruit sidle up to us. They sway to the beat of the music, grass skirts rustling and the flowers on their heads slowly spinning.  
  
I grab a few Oran and Pinap berries from their bowls, snapping my fingers to get Roe and Ginger’s attention for dinnertime. Wally snags a Razz Berry, wrapping it carefully in a piece of cloth and tucking it away in his bag. “I’ll save this for Cleo tomorrow,” he explains.  
  
Honi fills his own plate before sitting down to join us for dinner. “It’s wonderful to be able to break bread with visitors to the island,” he says, smiling broadly at us. “What brings you two to Dewford?”  
  
“Lilian’s a Trainer,” Wally explains, sliding a piece of Magikarp off a kabob and popping it in his mouth. “She’s looking to challenge Brawly.”  
  
“Is that so?” Honi chuckles heartily, cutting into his Slowpoke tail. “You best be ready for a fight then, little lady.”  
  
I pause mid-bite, setting my kabob down on my plate. “Sounds like you think Brawly’s pretty tough?”  
  
Honi nods, a solemn look on his face. “Oh yes,” he replies in a reverent tone. “Brawly’s the best of the best. He’s been invited to be an Elite Four member many times over the years. Only stays here because he loves the island so much.”  
  
'Really?” I ask, furrowing my brow. “He could have a better gig but doesn’t want to leave?”  
  
Honi simply smiles at me. “Would you want to leave all of this behind?”  
  
His question prompts me to glance around at my surroundings. People here seem to be in a perpetual state of bliss. Eating, dancing, singing, playing. The men are strong and full of energy, and all the women possess an enviable radiance. I’m sure the festivities have raised spirits a bit, but it’s more than that. This island atmosphere clearly breeds contentment. It would be a great place to have a life. To have a home, if I ever settle down. To have kids, if someone could ever truly love a mess like me. My ring girl days would be far behind me, and I could enjoy life without insecurity or pain.  
  
At the moment, it seems like a silly fantasy. But maybe one day, I could be like these islanders. Maybe one day, contentment won’t elude me.


	15. Chapter 15

It’s been two weeks since we arrived in Dewford Town, and time has come to an utter standstill. With my Gym challenge being postponed until further notice, I am forced to watch time pass by like a distant ship out at sea. It creeps along at a languid pace, its course unalterable by a mere onlooker like me. All I can do is wait.  
  
Most of our days have been spent on the beach, soaking up the fading summer sun. It sounds like a dream come true, but it’s grown awfully boring. Lately I’ve been prone to falling asleep under the shade of my umbrella, snoozing until Sage floats over to have the foam brushed off her wings or Mira cries out for me when the water stings her eyes. Roe and Ginger, on the other hand, seem to have formed a bond stemming from their mutual disdain for water. They remain with me under the umbrella the majority of the time- Ginger perpetually grooming herself and Roe eating every seashell she can find.  
  
Wally’s breezed through half a dozen paperbacks by now, each one eventually ending up with saltwater-kissed covers and sand between the pages. When he’s not reading, he’s running. He goes with a group of locals every morning at dawn, jogging the entire length of the coast and bearing witness to Dewford's famous sunrises. He’s tried pestering me to join a few times, but I can’t be arsed to wake up that early.  
  
Today, I rouse from my regularly scheduled nap to see that Wally’s nowhere to be found. I lower my sunglasses, peering around the general vicinity to look for him. Mira is splashing around in a small pool that Roe dug up for her, squealing with delight as she flings water everywhere. Ginger builds a sandcastle next to me, which Sage completes when she flies over with a shiny pink shell in her mouth. Cleo lies basking in the sun on a plush towel at my feet, occasionally letting out a content sigh.  
  
A few moments later, I can make out a faint green blur in the distance that seems to be moving closer. Sure enough, it’s Wally jogging towards our little group of beach bums. Black headphones plug his ears, the thin wires sticking to his bare chest slicked with sunscreen and sweat. I narrow my eyes at his frame, questioning the presence of toned muscle that his clothes have never seemed to suggest.  
  
“Surprised you aren’t asleep,” Wally quips, removing one earbud and reaching down to grab a small hand towel resting on his chair. He wipes his face with it before tossing it onto the pile of water toys, sunscreen bottles, and other towels on the ground.  
  
I groan, leaning back in my chair and wiggling my toes restlessly. “I’ve taken enough naps these past two weeks to last a lifetime. I’m bored of doing nothing.”  
  
Wally sits down on his chair, dragging our cooler closer to him so he can grab a bottle of water. “We don’t really have a choice,” he reminds me, unscrewing the top of a half-drunk bottle of his from before. He pauses before taking a sip, giving me a confused once-over. “Are you seriously not going to take off that shirt in this heat?”  
  
Crossing my arms over the over-sized white t-shirt I’m wearing, I glare at him through my sunglasses. “This is to protect me from pervs like you ogling me in my bikini.”  
  
With a disbelieving scoff, Wally rolls his eyes. “How long do we have to know each other before you get that I have _zero_ interest in leering at you?” he asks. He considers me for a moment before a small, uncharacteristic smirk registers on his face. “Besides, you’re the one who’s been staring.”  
  
I swear I hear Cleo giggling softly to herself. The accusation prompts me to flip Wally off, a deep scowl setting in. “Oh _please_ , I’ve just been trying to figure out how it’s possible for you to be that pale after two weeks in the sun.”  
  
Wally stares at me for a beat, an odd look flashing across his face as he seems to almost blink away whatever he was going to say next. “Right,” he says instead. “Well, suit yourself about the t-shirt I guess.”  
  
“I will, thank you very much,” I reply stiffly, tugging the white fabric farther down my bare thighs. We sit in deafening silence for several minutes, watching the Pokemon play- the occasional squabble breaking out if one gets splashed by another. Not being able to contain my displeasure, I let out another groan. “I am so damn bored it’s ridiculous.”  
  
“You need to be patient,” Wally says in a voice that would suggest he’s reprimanding an unruly child. “Steven’s getting closer to figuring things out.”  
  
I arch an eyebrow at him, lowering my sunglasses with one hand. “He’s barely made any progress so far,” I counter. “At the pace this investigation’s going, I’ll be eighty years old before I get to challenge Brawly.”  
  
Wally takes a deep breath before reaching for a bottle of sunscreen. “What do you want me to say, Lilian?” he asks, turning the bottle over and thumping it with the palm of his hand. “It’s not safe for you to be broadcasting your location right now. It’s best to just stay around large crowds and lay low.”  
  
“What’s the worst that could happen?” I argue, my voice growing louder. “You wiped the floor with that Grunt when he tried to steal Roe. And I don’t go down without a fight. We can clearly handle these guys!”  
  
Stopping mid-squeeze, Wally sets the sunscreen bottle down next to him and clenches his jaw. He glances around before leaning in closer, elbows propped on his thighs. “Lilian,” he starts quietly, eyeing me in a way that makes me feel stupid. “You don’t know what Team Aqua is capable of. They’re dangerous. We got lucky in the forest, but the truth is, I don’t have the ability to protect us if a group of thugs attack us in a more coordinated effort.” His voice sounds strained- almost disappointed- towards the end of his little speech.  
  
I blink at him, swallowing the lump that's formed in my throat. Wally’s got a maddening knack for cutting through my false bravado. “Are you trying to scare me or something?”  
  
Wally sighs, shaking his head slightly. “Not at all,” he assures me, grabbing the sunscreen again. “I just think it’s important for you to face reality. We need to be safe and have our guards up.” He squirts a few drops of the viscous white liquid into his hands, reapplying on his chest and arms.  
  
“Okay fine, but-” I stop in the middle of my sentence, a faint light bulb going off in my head. Something Wally said caught my attention, causing my gears to spin as I contemplate it.  
  
“What is it?” Wally asks, giving me a strange look. Cleo cracks open one eye, peering at me with the same curiosity.  
  
I push off of my chair into a standing position, shaking my head at the both of them as I wordlessly stuff my belongings into my bag. Swiping my shorts off of the ground, I brush the sand off and hurriedly hop into them. After snatching my flip flops in one hand and a water bottle in the other, I begin striding away from the group.  
  
“Lilian!” Wally shouts, holding his hands up in the air in a questioning manner. “Where the hell are you going?”  
  
“Watch the Pokemon!” I yell back over my shoulder, jabbing a threatening finger at him but not breaking my stride. “I’m putting an end to this hellish limbo.”  
  
***  
  
The Pokemon Center is buzzing with a chaotic sort of energy that makes my skin prickle. Groups of Trainers lounge around on circular couches to exchange travelling stories and battle strategies, occasionally breaking out into simultaneous laughter. Pokemon scurry around on the linoleum floors, shrieking and chattering among themselves as they give chase to their friends. I sidestep a Nurse Joy who rushes past me carrying a tray with needles of an intimidating size, before nearly crashing into another Joy cradling an injured Makuhita in her willowy arms.  
  
I finally manage to make my way to the back of the Center, pushing through the door marked with a blue telephone decal. Dull gray PCs with fingerprint-laden touch screens line every wall, each straddled by two privacy dividers. The room is empty besides one girl cooing at a Skitty on the screen of her PC, muttering cutesy nonsense at it that makes me nauseous. I give her the death stare until she hastily logs off and hurries away, unnerved. With a satisfied smile, I plop myself down on the closest swivel chair and punch in the number of who I’m praying will be able to help me.  
  
It takes a few rings, but eventually the screen comes to life. Zinnia appears, holding up a half-empty martini glass and smiling broadly. “What a sight for sore eyes!” she purrs, cocking her head to one side. “How are you, Lilian?”  
  
“Hi Zinnia,” I reply, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed about this whole plan of mine. I’m sure she has better and more glamorous things to be doing than talking with me. “I’m doing fine, how about you?”  
  
“Positively splendid!” she exclaims, her eccentric aura palpable despite us being separated by screens. “Steven’s been away investigating Team Aqua, so I’ve been filling my days with redecorating projects! The guest rooms were _long_ overdue for a makeover.”  
  
I muster up an excited expression despite not giving two shits about interior design. “Sounds like a fun time.”  
  
Zinnia pouts at me, seeing through my half-hearted facade. “You seem troubled, Lilian.”  
  
Inhaling deeply, I avert my eyes away from the screen. “Yeah, I’m actually calling to talk to you about something.”  
  
“What’s on your mind, hun?” Zinnia presses, her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.  
  
“Well,” I start, fiddling with a lock of hair that’s gone frizzy from the humidity on the island. “You know that I’m trying to complete the Gym challenge, right?”  
  
“Of course,” she responds, eyes lighting up as she clasps her hands together. “Your precious Trapinch did a marvelous job against Roxanne!”  
  
A faint smile flashes across my face as I remember that battle fondly. “Yes, well now I’m not able to continue challenging Gyms,” I explain, the corners of my mouth now pulling down into a frown. “At least not until Steven is able to shut Aqua down. We just can’t guarantee we’ll be safe if I’m broadcasting my location to everyone in Hoenn by competing.”  
  
Zinnia pulls a face that’s difficult to read. “Oh well sweetie, unfortunately Steven isn’t very close to putting a stop to things,” she explains in an apologetic tone. “You’ll be waiting around for quite awhile before that happens.”  
  
“And therein lies my problem,” I mumble, twisting my strand of hair so tightly around my finger that it turns white. “Lounging around the beach all day is fine and all, but I’d really like to be able to get back to battling.”  
  
“Well I can understand that,” Zinnia says, after taking a small sip from her martini glass. “Idle hands are Giritina’s tools, after all.”  
  
“And I really need to stop being idle,” I reply, a pitiful desperation creeping into my voice. “That’s why I wanted to ask you for a favor.”  
  
Zinnia eyes me curiously, leaning back in her chair and lazily swinging one leg across the other. “Go on,”  
  
“I was wondering if you could uh, maybe hire us a few b-bodyguards?” I say, stumbling over most of my words. “I mean, I can more than afford to pay them, that’s not the issue. But you, uh, offered to send some with us when we first met. So I thought maybe the offer might still stand?”  
  
Confusion colors Zinnia’s comely face. “Wally wasn’t a fan of that idea when I first brought it up, if i’m remembering correctly?”  
  
I sigh, crossing my arms in front of me. “At this point, he’s admitted he can’t protect us all. Maybe against one or two grunts, but not against a group if they target us.”  
  
Zinnia nods her head slowly, leaning off screen to rummage for something. When she reappears, she’s holding a thin black notebook. “Well consider it done,” she states with an authoritative finality, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll make some phone calls and send a pair of guards to you in Dewford as soon as possible. Don’t worry about the money either.”  
  
I shake my head vigorously back and forth. “Oh thank you but you really don’t have to-”  
  
“I do have one condition,” Zinnia cuts me off, suddenly looking rather serious.  
  
“Uh okay, what is it?” I ask, my heartbeat picking up a bit. I can’t say I’ve ever seen her so solemn.  
  
Zinnia regards me silently for a few moments before clearing her throat. “My condition is that you and Wally utilize the guards as a precautionary measure- _not_ as an excuse to go pick fights with Aqua.”  
  
I crinkle my nose, befuddled. “What do you mean?”  
  
Sighing, Zinnia sets her now-empty glass on the table next to her. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you and Wally suddenly becoming vigilantes now that you have the extra manpower.”  
  
“I wouldn’t do that,” I protest, still feeling quite puzzled. “I don’t think Wally would either.”  
  
“You’d be surprised, Lilian,” Zinnia responds tersely, turning the black notepad over in her manicured hands. “I didn’t make Wally and Brendan’s acquaintance until after I married Steven, but from the stories I’ve heard about Aqua’s first emergence, those two both have a strong sense of justice. Especially when those close to them are being threatened.”  
  
Now that she mentions it, I suppose Wally and Brendan were both pretty unnerved about the whole Aqua situation. “Okay yeah, I see your point,” I concede quietly.  
  
Zinnia gives me a tight-lipped smile, her expression once again unreadable. “I apologize if I’m coming across as hostile,” she starts, glancing down as she begins thumbing through the notebook’s pages. “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. Losing loved ones is never easy.”.  
  
“You say that like you know the feeling,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.  
  
Pausing, Zinnia remains silent for a moment before her eyes flash up to meet mine. “I’ve experienced enough loss to last a lifetime,” she responds, a sad smile brushing past her lips. “I’d like to avoid any more.”  
  
I nod, feeling as though I should change the subject. “Well anyways, thanks for helping us out with the guards. I appreciate it a lot.”  
  
Zinnia steeples her fingers, leaning her chin on them. “Of course. I'm assuming we have a deal?”  
  
I nod, catching a glimpse of her massive engagement ring as it twinkles. “I’ll pass the message on to Wally.”  
  
“Good,” Zinnia replies, sounding satisfied. I want to offer to pay for the guards again, but she promptly ends the call before I can get in another word. I stare at the smudged black screen for a minute, processing the last few minutes of conversation, before heading back to the beach to tell Wally the good news.


	16. Chapter 16

Call me crazy, but I have an inkling that I’m _not_ Wally’s favorite person at the moment.  
  
He sits as far away from me as humanly possible at breakfast, occasionally glowering at me from across the room as he takes angry bites out of his muffin. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the display, second guessing who the older one is out of the two of us. After about thirty minutes of shrugging off his palpable resentment, I drag my belongings across the Pokemon Center cafeteria and plop down next to him. He immediately looks in the opposite direction, fixing his gaze on a colorful info-graphic about what to do if your Pokemon is choking.  
  
“Look,” I start, craning my head in an attempt to grab his attention. “I know you’re mad about the bodyguard thing but-”  
  
“I’m not _mad_ ,” Wally corrects me in an argumentative tone, still refusing to look at me. “I just don’t agree with your decision.”  
  
I sigh, fishing an orange out of my bag to peel. “I needed to take matters into my own hands.”  
  
“You could’ve just been a little more patient,” Wally shoots back, pausing for a moment to sip on his juice. “Steven would’ve given us the go-ahead soon enough.”  
  
“No,” I reply, feeling myself getting exasperated. “He wouldn’t have. And we needed to keep moving.”  
  
Wally finally turns to look at me, annoyance reflected in his eyes. “We didn’t _need_ to do anything.”  
  
I swear I feel a vein throbbing in my head. I’ve never met a more stubborn person in my entire life. Arceus is really testing me with this one.  
  
“Anyways,” Wally says, before I have a chance to reply. “What’s done is done and we’re moving forward. So let’s come up with a battle strategy.”  
  
His voice sounds strained but his tone is adamant, so I simply nod my head in agreement. “Fine. What’s the plan?”  
  
Wally leans over and grabs a newspaper from the thick stack in the middle of the table, unfolding it to show me a picture of Brawly’s current team.  
  
“A Machop and a Makuhita,” I announce to no one in particular, rolling the orange between my palms. “Mira should be able to take them both no problem.”  
  
“Even so, it would be wise to prepare all of your Pokemon for the fight,” Wally says, squinting at the photo of Brawly flanked by his two Pokemon.  
  
Wrinkling my brow, I glance at Mira’s Pokeball tucked into the front pocket of my bag. “But Mira can more than handle Fighting types.”  
  
“What if Mira gets hurt?” Wally challenges, folding his hands in an expectant manner on the table. “What if she’s weak to one of their moves? What if she gets scared and refuses to fight? What if-”  
  
“Alright alright!” I shout, holding up a hand to stop him. “Enough with the fourth degree, I get your point okay?”  
  
Wally snickers in response, earning a glare from me. “It’s so easy to rile you up.”  
  
My cheeks flush and I start to stutter, but Wally’s phone begins to buzz before I can protest his ridiculous claim. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at the screen, a disdainful look flashing across his face. “They’re here, waiting out front,” he informs me with a grimace.  
  
I sling my backpack over my shoulder, popping the last sliver of orange in my mouth before gesturing for Wally to follow me. “Let’s go,” I say, walking backwards towards the cafeteria exit. “And don’t forget to be polite. These guys can probably beat the shit out of you.”  
  
Wally scoffs at me, but ultimately rises from the table with the newspaper in hand. “I’d sure hope so, otherwise this is a waste.”  
  
We weave through the crowd of hungry trainers carrying trays laden with food, careful not to step on the tails of any stray Pokemon scurrying about. The Pokemon have their own little section in the Center where Pokepellets and berries galore await them, but some trainers still sneak theirs into the cafeteria. I consider grabbing the gang so they can meet our new travel companions, but I shudder at the memory of the last time I got in the way of Roe eating. I’m shocked she isn’t fifty pounds heavier given how she chows down.  
  
Sunlight briefly blinds me as we step out of the Center, the salty breeze tickling my skin ever so slightly. Wally scratches his head, turning in a circle as he looks for our guards. I’m sure he’s spotted them when he lets out an overdrawn, dramatic sigh.  
  
I glance in the direction he’s facing and my eyebrows shoot up. Two of the buffest, tannest men I’ve ever seen stride towards us at a leisurely pace from across the beach. They both don tight-fitting black t-shirts that hug the curvature of their bulging muscles, visibly straining to contain it all. One man is bald and clean-shaven, with several large tattoos snaking up both arms. The other sports an impressive goatee, his arms and legs covered in the same dark hair. Both men have sunglasses obscuring their eyes and thin black earpieces hooked on one ear.  
  
Mr. Wakefield, Miss Meridian,” the tattooed man says, tucking his sunglasses into the pocket of his cargo pants before shaking both of our hands.  
“Pleasure to meet you both. We’re with the Stone’s security team.”  
  
“Lilian is fine,” I wince, rubbing my hand once the man relinquishes it from his extremely firm grasp. “And you two are?”  
  
“I’m Rafael,” the tattooed man replies, then gestures to the other man with his beefy hand. “This is Maurice. He’s not much of a talker.”  
  
“He can never speak a word to us for all I care, as long as he protects us,” Wally says, crossing his arms and looking between the two men. “I’m assuming Steven and Zinnia have brought you up to date on our little situation?”  
  
“They have,” Rafael responds with a curt nod of his head. “Rest assured you’re in excellent hands with us. Not a single Aqua grunt will lay a finger on either of you.”  
  
Wally narrows his eyes, puffing his chest out. “And what about our Pokemon?”  
  
Maurice smirks and Rafael lets out a chuckle. “We’re glad you asked.”  
  
Both men reach for matching Heavy Balls they have holstered and toss them into the air. A Machamp materializes out of Rafael’s, pounding his chest with two meaty fists while flexing his other set of arms. A Hariyama appears next to him, vocalizing vicious snarls that cause the ground to quake.  
  
“Boys, meet our new assignments,” Rafael says with a wicked grin that deviates from his professional manner up until now, flicking his hand towards Wally and I. “Vance is the Machamp, Ivan the Hariyama.”  
  
I can’t help but giggle at Wally being put in his place. “You both look tough as hell, so I’m sure our Pokemon will be just fine as long as you’re around.”  
  
“They better be,” Wally grumbles, eyes flickering between Rafael and Maurice. “Aqua’s not to be underestimated, so I hope you’re both prepared for the worst.”  
  
“Settle down kid,” Rafael laughs, recalling Vance into his Pokeball. “You know Mr. and Mrs. Stone personally, don’t you? Do you think they’d send some chumps to protect their friends?”  
  
Wally glares at him, jaw visibly tightened. “She’s the kid here,” he responds, jabbing his thumb in my direction. “I reckon the rest of us are about the same age.”  
  
I groan, pinching between the bridge of my nose. “Wally, that’s so _not_ the point.”  
  
“Relax,” Maurice rumbles in a remarkably low voice, speaking for the first time since we met him. “You don’t have to like us, we’re just here for security. You won’t even notice we’re here.”  
  
“Fine,” Wally grunts, steam practically coming out of his ears.  
  
“Fine,” Rafael echos, rubbing the top of his smooth head eyeing Wally with an amused smirk that I’m sure is only pushing even more of his buttons.  
  
“Fine!” I exclaim in a forced, cheery tone as I clap my hands together. “Let’s all go inside and get acquainted!”  
  
***  
  
Brawly isn’t quite what I pictured. From the way Honi talked about him a few weeks ago, I was expecting some sort of awe-inspiring legend of a Gym leader. Instead I’m met with baggy canvas shorts, grungy flip flops and a chaotically messy mop of electric blue hair. He’s handsome, don’t get me wrong, but the man looks like he belongs on the pier fishing up Magikarp rather than heading a League certified Gym.  
  
To my surprise, Brawly moves to center stage and gestures for me to do the same. I amble over, quizzically regarding the man. I think he’s going for a handshake, so I nearly recoil when his hand covertly reaches up towards my chest  
  
“What are you _doing_?” I snap, shooting daggers at him and fighting the urge to slap him right here and now. It’s not until I speak and don’t hear an echo that I realize he's turned off my mic.  
  
“Apologies,” he responds quietly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he extends his hand for the shake I thought he was going for all along. “I realize that probably seemed like something it wasn’t. I just wanted a chance to speak without being heard.”  
  
“Why?” I ask warily, accepting his hand in mine. When I glance down at it, a thin silver wedding band catches my eye. The crowd cheers at the apparent display of camaraderie.  
  
“I followed all the news coverage back when you first quit being an MC,” Brawly explains through a tight-lipped smile, turning to wave at one section of the crowd with his free hand. “It was quite admirable. Just wanted to express that I’m glad you’re doing what you love now.”  
  
“I’m not really sure I’d say being a Trainer is what I _love,_ ” I reply, feeling uncomfortable as I follow Brawly’s lead and offer a small wave to the other side of the stadium. “It’s just something I’m trying out.”  
  
“Even so,” Brawly starts, releasing my hand and beginning to back away. “I know what it’s like to reject fame for a simpler life. It’s a good step in the right direction.”  
  
He reaches up to switch his mic back on so I do the same, his words still echoing in my head. Once we both make our ways back to the edges of the battlefield, a ear-to-ear grin spreads fast across his face. “Are you ready to battle, Lilian?”  
  
“More than ready,” I call out, and the crowd goes wild. Brawly hurls his first Pokeball into the air and out comes the Machop I’ve been eagerly anticipating beating. We’ve got this in the bag.  
  
Ginger, let’s go!” I shout, and the crowd cheers as Ginger materializes and begins strutting around the battlefield like she owns the place. If this was an alternate universe and I had been a Coordinator, she would’ve won me a shit ton of ribbons for performance alone.  
  
“Bulk Up!” Brawly exclaims, clearly getting hyped up by the crowd. His Machop punches at the air with veiny fists and his lean yet powerful muscles begin to glow. Just like we practiced, Ginger spews a fiery Ember at Machop while he’s distracted setting up. The attack singes the top layer of skin on his head, causing him to wince in pain and sustain a small burn that’ll be sure to limit his attacking power this match.  
  
“Show these ladies what you’re made of!” Brawly yells, pumping one of his own fists in the air. “Use Karate Chop!”  
  
Machop comes barreling towards Ginger, who nimbly dodges him as he swipes at her. Eventually, though, one of his hands slices right into her back and sends her tumbling into the side of the stadium wall. The crowd lets out a collective gasp and I cringe when I hear Ginger cry out. I can tell that she’s had the wind knocked right out of her.  
  
“Good effort!” I call out, recalling her before Machop can finish her off. I had hoped she’d last a little longer, but her main job was to get that burn off.  
  
“And who will you be using next?” Brawly inquires, shooting me a lopsided smile as he twists his ring around his finger.  
  
“That’ll be Mira,” I respond, lobbing her Pokeball as high as I can. When she appears, she sticks her tongue out at the Machop and does a quirky jig that prompts the audience to burst out laughing. Leave it to Mira to entertain the crowd.  
  
“Confusion!” I yell, hoping to catch Brawly and his Machop off guard with a quick command. Mira flings her arms out to either side and lets out a high-pitched shriek that makes my hands fly to my ears. The scream sends Machop flying backwards before he can react to Brawly’s next command.  
  
“Disarming Voice, nice!” Brawly exclaims, seemingly unfazed over his Pokemon being pummeled by mine. “It’s always exciting when Pokemon learn a new move in battle.”  
  
“That’s great,” I say before shooting Mira an exasperated look. “But what’s more exciting is when my Pokemon _listens_ to me.”  
  
Now I’m the one Mira’s sticking her tongue out at. She grumbles something unintelligible to herself before beginning to execute the Confusion I had initially asked of her.  
  
“Seismic Toss, give it all you got!” Brawly shouts, eyes lighting up with an enthusiastic quality that reminds me of Brendan. The Machop dashes across the battlefield, breaking through Mira’s attack and grabbing her with curled fingers. He spins her around several times before hurling her at Brawly’s feet. She’s for sure down for the count after that, but luckily the attack also seems to have tired Machop out to the point of fainting.  
  
We both recall our exhausted Pokemon and ready ourselves for the next fight. Running a hand through his messy locks, Brawly casts a playful wink in my direction. “You’ve ain't seen nothing yet.”  
  
His Makuhita emerges from its Pokeball with a heavy growl, stomping its fat feet into the dirt. I scan the audience for Wally as I try to decide whether to send out Sage or Roe. I spot him in one of the upper rows on the left side, sitting between Rafael and Maurice. His eyes flicker to me after a moment and I swear I see him smile.  
  
I quickly turn my attention back to Brawly, picking a Pokeball at random and tossing it. Sage materializes from the flash of white light, flitting around me as she obediently awaits further instruction. She doesn’t have any Flying type moves yet, but that doesn’t matter. We’ve got speed on our side.  
  
“Use Quick Attack, Sage!” I call out, pointing at our opponent. Brawly gives the Makuhita some kind of signal and it begins kicking up dirt, creating a hazy cloud around it that causes Sage to narrowly miss her attack. She soars upward at the last second to avoid hitting the wall, her wings buzzing angrily.  
  
I cup my hands up to my mouth to yell to Sage. “Double Team!”  
  
She instantly creates a dozen copies of herself, all darting through the air at lightning speed. The Makuhita cries out with rage, punching at the copies with balled fists. I don’t realize the Makuhita is using Bulk Up until I see its hands and feet emitting a red light that pulsates faster and faster with every passing second.  
  
“Quick Attack again!” I yell. Sage’s remaining copies disappear and she dive-bombs the Makuhita, cracking the ground underneath it with the force of the impact.  
  
“Arm Thrust!” Brawly exclaims, and it is then that I realize I’m in trouble. I’m not able to tell Sage to get away quickly enough. The Makuhita slams its stocky arms into Sage’s body, clobbering her frail body over and over. She barely manages to get away, buzzing something fierce but unable to lift herself off the ground. I notice one of her wings are torn and my heart drops.  
  
This battle is going to end badly for us if I don’t get her airborne. “Double Team again!” I call out, aggressively biting the inside of my cheek. “It’ll confuse ‘em!”  
  
Yanma lets out a feeble moan but obliges, and the Makuhita begins tottering up to each of the copies, flinging its legs wildly at them until they disappear. My eyes dart over to Wally again, whose attention is captured by the huge monitor hanging over Brawly’s side of the field. It shows the half dozen copies of Sage left, each with twitching wings and pained looks on their faces.  
  
An odd feeling beings to simmer in the pit of my stomach but I shake it off. This needs to end before Sage really gets hurt. My hand flies to Roe’s Pokeball, but before I can switch Sage out for her, the Makuhita suddenly collapses mid-kick in the center of the battlefield.  
  
The audience gasps in unison, most of them rising from their seats for a closer look at what’s happened. My hand freezes on Roe’s Pokeball and I widen my eyes at Brawly, unsure of how to react. To my surprise, he begins to laugh heartily and shakes his head.  
  
“Well I’ll be,” he chuckles, striding over to the Makuhita and giving it a tender pat on the back. “This little guy got himself so worked up that he passed out. An unconventional victory for you, but a victory nonetheless.”  
  
At that, the crowd erupts into thunderous applause. Celebratory music begins blaring out of the speakers and confetti cannons shoot colorful paper into the air. The remaining copies of Sage disappear, letting me recall her as quickly as I can. Brawly scoops his Makuhita up in his arms and walks the remaining distance to shake my hand and present me with my badge. I suppose I should be happy, but Brawly’s words from before are on replay in my head. _Am_ I doing what I love? How should I know? I don’t know shit about love. And with the way my life has gone so far, I probably never will.


	17. Chapter 17

“So did you, like, _bribe_ Brawly the other day?”  
  
I stop dead in my tracks, whirling around to face a perturbed-looking Wally tapping his foot expectantly against the dingy gray brick of the port. His gaze pierces me in a way that makes me feel like a dirty criminal- like he’s caught me red-handed doing something unsavory or illegal. Rafael and Maurice keep an eye on us from a considerable distance, and I briefly consider calling them over to pummel this asshole for me.  
  
“Excuse me?” I finally reply, feeling a dormant rage slowly bubbling to the surface. My skin pricks with hot anger and I rip off my cardigan, stuffing it in my bag. “What the hell kind of question is that?”  
  
Wally averts his eyes away from me and tugs at the collar of his shirt, almost as if he’s lost his nerve. “Makuhita just fainting like that seemed too good to be true,” he starts, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “And meeting up at center field with Brawly like that was….weird.”  
  
“Do you seriously think I’d pay a Gym Leader to throw a match?” I snap, closing the distance between him and I with clenched fists. The blare of a foghorn sounds a short distance away, warning incoming boats that Slateport City’s craggy coastline is fast approaching.  
  
“Well you aren’t exactly denying it,” Wally mumbles, eyes flickering back to me.  
  
I stomp one foot and lower my voice to a fervent whisper. “ _No,_ Wally,” I hiss, digging my nails into my palms. “I didn’t bribe Brawly and I didn’t flirt with him either if that’s what you’re thinking.”  
  
Wally’s pupils dilate like a Stantler in the headlights. “I didn’t say I thought _that_ -”  
  
“The tabloids sure do seem to think that’s what happened,” I cut him off, gritting my teeth. “I’ve already been branded a homewrecker by half a dozen trashy magazines.”  
  
“That’s just stupid,” Wally says quickly, crossing his arms tightly against his jacket and shaking his head.  
  
I glare at him and raise an angry eyebrow. “And the idea of me bribing an Arceusdamn Gym Leader _isn’t?_ ”  
  
“The whole exchange between you two was just bizarre,” Wally argues, staring me down with that infuriating look again. “There really isn’t a logical explanation for turning your mics off.”  
  
“There is if you fucking _ask_ me for it,” I spit, turning away from him. “Way to assume the worst.”  
  
I expect Wally to keep debating me on the matter, but instead I’m suddenly and roughly grabbed from behind. I shriek and jab my elbow backwards, hearing a loud groan and someone crumpling in a heap on the ground a split second later. When I spin around to face my assailant, I’m faced with a moaning Brendan that’s been tackled and pinned down in an uncomfortable-looking position by Rafael and Maurice. Wally stands off to the side, snickering at the sight of it all.  
  
“What the hell, Brendan?” I shout, hiding my face in my hands as I peer at the gathering crowd through my fingers. “You know we have bodyguards now!”  
  
“I didn’t think about it!” Brendan yells, muffled by Maurice squishing his face into the dirty brick. “I was just trying to sneak up on you!”  
  
Wally snorts and shake his head. “You’re a moron, dude.”  
  
“At least we got to see the boys in action,” I mumble, relieved to see the crowd losing interest now that it’s clear I’m not getting jumped.  
  
“Friend of yours, then?” Rafael asks, inclining his head in Brendan’s direction. Maurice stares Brendan down, cracking his knuckles and then his neck.  
  
Wally nods and extends a hand to help Brendan up. “A dumb friend, but a friend nonetheless.”  
  
“You should be thanking him,” I say, scowling at Wally as Rafael and Maurice stalk off. “I was this close to backhanding you during that argument.”  
  
Brendan wiggles his eyebrows, dusting the dirt off his black athletic pants. “Trouble in paradise?”  
  
“Can we just forget it?” Wally snaps, the tips of his ears turning red. “It was stupid for me to even bring it up in the first place.”  
  
“Damn right it was,” I concede with a broad smirk, clapping Brendan on the back. “Brendan here saved you from an ass-kicking of epic proportions.”  
  
Brendan matches my smirk with one of his own and offers Wally a reverent bow. “I live to serve.”  
  
Wally rolls his eyes but ultimately cracks a smile along with us. “What are you doing in Slateport, anyways?”  
  
“Mostly field research,” Brendan begins in a trailing voice, sheepishly tucking his hands into the pockets of his red zip-up jacket. “But to be honest, I have an ulterior motive for being here.”  
  
My breath hitches when Brendan takes a tentative step towards me and gazes at me with what I can only assume are his bedroom eyes. I’m paralyzed by a mixture of discomfort and secondhand embarrassment as he slowly moves his hands to either side of me, the fabric of his fingerless gloves scratchy against my bare arms. Turning me slightly to the left, he points at a stall in the distance and lowers his voice to a seductive whisper. “The best ice cream in all of Hoenn awaits us.”  
  
“Brendan!” I shout, giving him a thump on the arm with the back of my hand. Wally busts out laughing, doubled over as he tries to compose himself. With a playful shove in the direction of the ice cream stall, I begrudgingly urge Brendan to lead the way.  
  
  
***  
  
“Why is ice cream so amazing?” Brendan sighs, ogling what’s left of his drippy Razz Berry cone like he wants to take it to prom. A runny drop of it splatters on the ground and is promptly fought over by a group of eager Taillow with sharp beaks and empty stomachs.  
  
I tilt my cone to the side as the three of us stroll through downtown Slateport, licking some of the melted Pinap ice cream off the rim. “It’s pretty cool they make flavors safe for Pokemon.”  
  
Wally nods in agreement, holding out his cup of Pecha-Chocolate Chip so Mira can take a bite. She leans forward excitedly in my arms, lapping up a good portion of ice cream with her tiny tongue. Cleo reaches up and wipes Mira’s face with her blue bloom, getting rid of a chunk of melted chocolate that didn’t quite make it into her mouth. I have to say, the dynamic between the two of them is pretty damn cute.  
  
“Are you both staying in town for long?” Brendan asks, tossing his finished cone into a nearby trash can. “I’ve got some field research to do on Route 110, but that shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”  
  
I shrug, taking a nibble out of my waffle cone. “Probably just for the night since there’s not a Gym here.”  
  
“Agreed,” Wally says, using a tiny pink spoon to fish out a melted chunk of ice cream from his cup before throwing it away. “If we leave here first thing tomorrow morning, we should be able to make it to Mauville by-”  
  
Wally comes to an abrupt halt, his sneakers screeching against the pavement. His face twists into a disapproving grimace as he adopts a thousand-yard stare. When I follow his gaze, what I see surprises me.  
  
A lithe brunette comes strutting towards our trio with a haughty smirk plastered across her heart-shaped face. She donns skin-tight bicycle shorts and an equally revealing red tank top, paired with glistening white tennis shoes that look like they’ve never been worn. A crisp bandana sweeps shoulder length hair out of her steely blue eyes, which are currently swirling with a notable mischief that gives me pause.  
  
“May Maple?” I ask no one in particular, tilting my head to one side.  
  
“How do you know May?” Brendan asks with an inquisitive glance, boasting a similar scowl to Wally.  
  
“She’s like, one of the most famous Contest starts in Hoenn,” I mutter, eyeing her with curiosity as she approaches us. “How do _you_ two know May?”  
  
Before either of them can answer, May bounds up to Brendan and envelops him in a giant Teddiursa hug. “It’s been too long, neighbor,” she purrs, tightening her slender arms around his waist. An obnoxious perfume wafts off of her, at which I scrunch up my nose in displeasure.  
  
Brendan visibly tenses, eyes darting to Wally. “There’s a reason for that, May.”  
  
“Oh, him?” May pouts, pulling away from Brendan to look at Wally. “As always, you’re gonna let some silly breakup ruin a decades-old friendship?”  
  
I choke on air, a hand flying to my throat. “You and Wally _dated_?”  
  
May casts a lazy glance in my direction, sizing me up with a manicured hand to her chin. “Sweetie, don’t get too jealous. He isn’t much of a catch.”  
  
“Excuse me?” I say with a disbelieving laugh, too stunned to fully process the implications of what she’s saying.  
  
“What the hell do you want, May?” Wally finally says, jaw clenched tight as he regards her with palpable disdain. Mira whines in my arms at the evident tension between us all.  
  
A smug grin spreads fast across her face as she eyes me up and down. “I just had to see it for myself,” she responds, biting her bottom lip coyly. “You shacking up with this psychotic disgrace, I mean. It’s all the Contest world can talk about these days!”  
  
“What the fuck did you just call me?” I growl, throwing what’s left of my cone to the ground and lunging forward at her. Brendan is quick to lock his arms between mine, pulling me backwards. Out of the corner of my eye I see Rafael and Maurice jump up from their table a few yards away, ready to spring into action. I shake my head at them- letting them haul her away wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as setting this bitch straight myself.  
  
May lets out a grating chuckle, jutting her bottom lip out at me. “Wow, you really are just as violent as they say you are.”  
  
“May, did you seriously just come over here to harass us?” Wally laments, looking more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him. He stands almost completely motionless, as if the sight her renders him immobilized. Cleo mutters something in a reassuring tone under her breath, tenderly placing one of her blooms on Wally’s arm.  
  
Brendan unhands me and crosses his arms, brows furrowed at May. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”  
  
“I don’t have a problem,” May blinks, false sincerity dripping from her voice. “Like I said, just wanted to see this little trainwreck myself. Wally’s never amounted to much of anything, but I expected a _tiny_ bit more from him than this.”  
  
“Are you unhinged?” I ask hotly, cupping Mira’s head closer to my chest with my free hand. “Who the hell talks about someone like that?”  
  
May merely offers me a tight-lipped smile. “I’m not saying anything that isn’t true, sweetie.”  
  
Brendan sighs, shaking his head at her. “You’re out of line, Maple. Just walk away.”  
  
“It’s not my fault he’s pushing thirty and galavanting around Hoenn with some teenybopper,” May replies in a tone I can tell has been perfected to push Wally’s buttons. “The man couldn’t battle a way out of a paper bag, either.”  
  
“Let’s do it then,” Wally says loudly and without warning, locking eyes with May for the first time since she’s graced us with her presence.  
  
“What was that, hun?” May asks, confusion muddling her pretty, punchable face. Brendan and I exchange worried glances before looking back at Wally.  
  
“Let’s have a battle, just you and me,” Wally announces with an unabashed confidence that surprises and impresses me. “I guarantee I’ll make you eat those words.”


	18. Chapter 18

Word of May Maple being challenged to an impromptu battle spreads quickly, resulting in a mass of giddy fans swarming the front of Slateport’s Contest Hall in no time flat. A makeshift battlefield is drawn on the brick in chalk by a scrawny, fidgety man that appears to be May’s personal assistant. She waves him away with a bored hand and he scurries off with his head lowered meekly, nearly tripping on his untied shoelaces.  
  
Wally stands on the other side of the field with Cleo, taking a knee so he can talk strategy with her at eye level. He glances over at May every few seconds, the wary look on his face unmistakable even from where Brendan and I stand.  
  
“Lilian?” a confused, familiar voice calls out above the animated chatter of the crowd.  
  
Brendan and I both turn at the mention of my name, and my breath hitches. “Lisia?”  
  
My former best friend, donning flared blue jeans and a simple white crop top- a departure from her ostentatious Contest attire- offers me a tight-lipped smile as she approaches. “I never thought I’d see you within a hundred yards of a Contest Hall again.”  
  
“That’s not an inaccurate assumption,” I grumble back to her, scuffing my shoe into the pavement. “But our friend’s got something to prove to his ex, here.” It feels odd calling Wally a _friend_ \- the term feels clunky and oddly embarrassing as it rolls off my tongue.  
  
Even so, Lisia doesn’t seem to notice. “Your friend dated May Maple?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow at the star Coordinator standing opposite Wally. “Bet that didn’t turn out too well for him.”  
  
“It didn’t,” Brendan interrupts, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks as he sticks a stiff hand out to Lisia. “Professor Brendan Birch. You can just call me Brendan, of course.”  
  
Lisia beams at him and accepts the shake, her turquoise ponytail bouncing atop her head. “It’s a pleasure, Professor. I’m Lisia Sinclair.  
  
“Oh I know,” Brendan begins to ramble, raking a jittery hand through his hair. “You’re a legend in the Contest World. You’re even more of a star than May!”  
  
“I don’t know about that,” Lisia laughs, fiddling with a beaded bracelet around her wrist. She was always humble. At least, _almost_ always.  
  
“W-what are you doing in Slateport?” I ask, before I lose my nerve.  
  
Lisia gestures at a tall building in the distance with a bright blue roof and sleek metal exterior. “Photoshoot at the Oceanic Museum,” she replies, fishing a navy Pokeball with rough netting around the top half out of her backpack to show us. “I’ve been training a Walrein and my publicist thought it would be good to get some pictures together.”  
  
“Cool,” Brendan says simply, his face turning more red by the minute. I can’t help but roll my eyes at how enamored he is, but I suppose it’s kind of sweet.  
  
“Anyways, I better get going,” Lisia pipes up, shifting uncomfortably as a group of teenage girls to our left begin pointing at her and whipping out their phones to take photos. “But Lilian, maybe we could meet up while we’re both still in town? We haven’t talked since….you know.”  
  
Her face reads cautious yet optimistic, and I feel a pang of guilt remembering our fight several months before my public spectacle- me accusing her of being vapid and complicit, her screaming back that I’m ungrateful for everything I have. It wasn’t pretty.  
  
“Sure,” I finally reply, unable to disguise the hesitancy in my voice. “I’ll call you.”  
  
Lisia leaves us with a wordless smile, quickly disappearing into the crowd. My heart skips a hopeful beat when I notice she’s got the Altaria pin I gifted here as a birthday present last year clipped onto her backpack.  
  
“You two had a falling out?” Brendan asks, gazing in the direction she went with painfully obvious infatuation.  
  
“I was an asshole, she was an asshole back,” I mutter with a shake of my head, resentment and regret at odds with each other in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll tell you more later.”  
  
A hush suddenly falls over the boisterous crowd as Wally and May assume their positions on opposite ends of the field. Cleo stands graceful and proud, her chin tilted upward and one petite foot crossed elegantly in front of the other. May expertly spins a glistening pink Pokeball on the tip of her finger, the blur of a heart-shaped decal occasionally flashing into view as it twirls around and around. She palms the Pokeball and tosses it sky-high, catching it with ease once her notorious Blaziken, Apollo, emerges onto the field. He’s easily three times Cleo’s height, with razor sharp claws and glowering yellow eyes that famously strike fear into the hearts of men and Pokemon alike.  
  
“Wally’s at a major disadvantage here,” I whisper to Brendan, scowling at May as she blows kisses to the crowd. Fake bitch.  
  
“Type disadvantages don’t necessarily decide all battles,” Brendan replies in a professor-like manner, reaching behind him to adjust his bandana. “Wally can win this if he’s smart about it.”  
  
We stand at a comfortable distance to avoid the aftermath of attacks, and without microphones, Wally and May’s commands are impossible to hear over the roar of the crowd. Apollo moves first, darting across the field at lightning speed to deliver rapid-fire uppercuts to Cleo’s jaw. She takes a few hits before dropping to the floor, feigning a knockout before nimbly sliding between Apollo’s legs. She sweeps him off his feet with a pointed foot before tumbling out of the way.  
  
Knocked to the ground, Apollo grunts and takes to the air, leaping to incredible heights and nearly disappearing into the wispy clouds rolling languidly across the sky. Wally shouts something unintelligible, prompting Cleo to spin on her feet like a top, surrounding herself with a dizzying layer of shimmering leaves. Apollo plummets back down, his beak glowing with a sweltering tenacity. He dive bombs Cleo and just barely penetrates her leafy shield, sending her tumbling towards Wally and himself skittering across the field from the recoil.  
  
Apollo might have gotten a good hit in, but that’s not slowing Cleo down. She firmly claps her blooms together in front of her, sending a massive blob of radioactive purple sludge barreling towards Apollo. He attempts to dodge but the attack clips his left shoulder, immediately melting the surrounding feathers and allowing the poison to seep into his body. He winces and drops to one knee, a bead of sweat trickling down his angular face.  
  
May stomps her foot and points aggressively at Cleo, who’s conjuring up a Petal Blizzard of epic proportions. Just as she launches the floral attack, Apollo jumps to his feet and punches at the air with fiery fists, singing most of the petals to a pathetic crisp. A few strays slice into his arms and stomach, one lodging itself into the raw, bubbling skin of his shoulder. Apollo cries out in agony, unable to contain himself.  
  
At this point, my jaw has all but dropped to the floor. My attention utterly captivated, I watch with wide eyes as the two Pokemon spar for what seems like hours. Despite Cleo’s type disadvantage and less than intimidating build, her and Apollo seem- dare I say- evenly matched?  
  
Wally breaks me out of my trance when he shouts the only command I’ve heard clearly this entire match: _“Solar Beam”_  
  
Luckily for him, the sun shines steadfastly through the thin canopy of clouds this afternoon. Cleo’s attack is unleashed in an instant, the thick beam of blinding light blasting across the battlefield. At the same moment, Apollo tucks his knees close to his chest and catapults himself, scorching the earth beneath him as he barrels towards Cleo, engulfed in a blazing inferno.  
  
The two attacks collide, resulting in a colossal explosion that shakes the ground and knocks several onlookers off their feet. Brendan grabs my upper arm with a firm hand, preventing me from following suit. A sulfuric cloud of ash and smoke chokes my lungs and makes my eyes water, concealing the aftermath of the collision from the crowd.  
  
When the dust finally settles, both Pokemon are revealed to still be standing- _barely_. Apollo grinds his pointy teeth, squinting at Cleo with one eye as his whole body trembles. Cleo is shaking like a leaf, her gaze stubbornly fixed on the charred brick beneath her. With a heaving sigh, she blinks her curly eyelashes one last time before falling gently to the ground- ever graceful, even in defeat.  
  
The crowd roars to life, having previously been stunned into silence by the explosion. I let out an involuntary gasp, covering my mouth as my eyes dart between Wally and May. As expected, May looks positively _thrilled._ She adopts a smug, gloating expression within seconds, addressing those cheering her victory with a gag-inducing pageant wave. Wally puts on a stoic demeanor as he trudges to the center of the field to recall Cleo, but I don’t have to be a genius to infer that he’s devastated.  
  
The police quickly escort most of the crowd away, calling out instructions to vacate the premises immediately over blaring megaphones. Arcanine wearing mesh vests nudge nosy reporters away with wet noses, ensuring that May and Wally aren’t bombarded with questions. I realize instantly that the Contest Committee must’ve caught wind of the battle and ordered police to run interference afterwards- couldn’t have one of their star Coordinators harassed by the media if she had lost, after all. Typical.  
  
Brendan and I approach Wally with extreme caution as he collects Cleo’s Pokeball and drops it into his bag with a resounding thud, a brief fondness for his fallen companion flickering across his face. Before we can get a comforting word or two in, May practically _floats_ over to us, a haughty smirk taunting the three of us as she moves closer.  
  
“What was that about making me eat my words, Wally?” she asks, in a tone that masquerades as innocent.  
  
Wally takes a long breath and addresses May with steely eyes. “You win, I lose. Are we done here?”  
  
“I suppose we are,” she says, a smug elation evident in her voice. “I just can’t help but want to offer up a few battling tips first, since you obviously need them.”  
  
“Just go away, alright?” Brendan snaps, his typical cheery demeanor fading as we bear witness to May’s stinking, rotten bullshit.  
  
“You know,” May starts, ignoring Brendan and shooting Wally a devilish grin. “It’s no wonder why Nikolai doesn’t travel with you anymore. He’s probably _embarrassed_ of you.”  
  
Before my brain can catch up with my hand, I step forward and deliver a hard slap to May’s right cheek. She stumbles backwards, hands flying to the stinging red imprint I left on her face. Brendan lets out a short, disbelieving guffaw before clamping his mouth shut, and Wally whips his head around to gawk at me.  
  
“I, uh….” I stutter, blinking at the fuming Coordinator in front of me. “I…”  
  
“A little slap-happy, are we?” May hisses. She straightens up and eyes me with an icy cold glare of superiority in an attempt to save face, but I can tell my outburst has put her right in her place. A few silent seconds pass between the four of us, and she eventually stalks away with a huff. In the distance, I spot Rafael and Maurice slowly backing off and holstering their Pokeballs once it’s apparent May won’t be a threat.  
  
My eyes, drawn to Wally like a Mothim to a flame, flicker to him for some indication of what he’s thinking. To my dismay, his expression is utterly unreadable. Is he surprised? Embarrassed? _Angry?_  
  
His gaze settles on me for a brief moment before he turns away and strides off in a random direction, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. He leaves both of us without a single word- Brendan rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, and me, finding myself desperate to know where Wally’s head is at.


	19. Chapter 19

“Ginger, get out of the way!”  
  
Ginger sniffs at Sage’s torn wing as I wind fresh gauze around the width of it, making it impossible for me to see what I’m doing. I shoo Ginger away with my hand, and she nips at my fingers with defiance before prancing away.  
  
“Fuck,” I mutter, frustration building as I dab the same antiseptic I’ve been using on Sage’s wing onto my knuckles. They prick with an uncomfortable stinging sensation, and I curse again.  
  
My outburst stirs Roe from her nap, but she easily settles back into slumber. A long strand of drool trickles out of her mouth, wetting the pillow beneath her. Mira lets out a concerned coo from the opposite side of the room, halting progress on the block tower she’s been building. Wally bought a colorful set for her back in Dewford in an attempt to ‘cultivate her imagination’.  
  
 _Wally._ I tense up just thinking about what happened earlier with him. When he stalked off, Brendan went after him and I retreated to my room at the Pokemon Center. I suppose I could’ve gone to check on him too, but if I’m being honest with myself, part of me doesn’t want to know how he’s doing.  
  
I am jolted out of my chair by a sudden knock on the door, and my heart races as I walk over to answer it. To my immense relief and slight disappointment, I’m greeted by Brendan wielding a white paper bag mottled with grease.  
  
“Thought you might want some dinner,” he says, holding the bag out to me. “Can I come in?”  
  
“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the bag and stepping to the side so he can come out of the hallway.  
  
Mira waddles over to Brendan, pulling on his pant leg and pointing proudly at her block tower. He smiles at her and crouches down to marvel at her masterpiece. When Ginger notices Mira getting all the attention, she struts over and knocks the tower over with her tail in one fell swoop.  
  
“ _Arceus_ , Ginger!” I snap over Mira’s ear-shattering sobs, rushing over to separate the two of them before things get heated. The commotion rouses Roe from her nap once again, this time prompting grumpy tears to spring from her eyes. Overwhelmed, I recall everyone but Sage and shove their Pokeballs into the drawer of my nightstand. I let out a relieved exhale as the room goes quiet.  
  
“Yikes,” Brendan mutters, settling into the chair I had been previously sitting on. “It’s been a stressful day all-around, huh?”  
  
“Tell me about it,” I grumble, throwing myself onto the bed and fishing some fries out of the bag he gave me. “How’s Wally?”  
  
“He’s...fine,” Brendan trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “May’s like his kryptonite. He kind of loses it a little every time she crops up.”  
  
I snort, shaking my head. “She’s terrible- I don’t understand how he could have ever dated someone like that.”  
  
“She wasn’t always this way,” Brendan sighs, his shoulders heaving. “It’s complicated and she-”  
  
“And what was that shit about Wally needing battle tips?” I interject with fervency, my mouth full of fries as I begin to rant. “Wally was just as good as she was, if not better. Why the hell am the one challenging Gyms if he’s _that_ talented, anyways?”  
  
An uncomfortable silence settles over the room, making me pause mid-fry to stare at Brendan. He squirms in his chair and glances at the ceiling, avoiding my gaze. “There’s a lot about Wally you don’t know, Lilian.”  
  
“Like what?” I ask, suspicion creeping into my voice. Sage flits over to me as I wait for Brendan to respond, barely making it across the room with her left wing out of commission. I pat the top of her head, watching as her damaged wing vibrates weakly. My heart breaks seeing her hurting.  
  
Brendan hesitates for a few seconds before letting out an overdrawn sigh. “You should really be hearing all of this from him…” he mumbles, scratching behind his ear. “Wally’s a private guy.”  
  
“Yeah, and Wally’s sure as hell not going to tell me whatever it is,” I point out, my curiosity officially piqued. “So you might as well just go ahead.”  
  
“Good point,” Brendan mutters, cracking his knuckles in front of him. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But Wally’s probably going to murder me.”  
  
“Is that what it is?” I ask in a joking manner, raising a dubious eyebrow. “Did Wally kill someone or something?”  
  
Brendan chuckles darkly and leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “More like something almost killed _him.”_  
  
I narrow my eyes at Brendan. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Wally wasn’t well growing up,” Brendan starts uneasily, biting on the inside of his cheek. “He had some sort of autoimmune disorder. It was rare and there wasn’t a cure. I don’t remember the name of it.”  
  
At the mention of a disorder, a light bulb goes off in my head. “I’ve seen photos of him when he was little and he looked super sickly, yeah.”  
  
“He was,” Brendan confirms with a slight nod. “I met him when we were ten, in Petalburg. My old man had just sent me off on my journey, and Wally wanted help catching a Pokemon. His condition wasn’t all that bad yet, and his parents thought it might be good for him to get fresh air, so he was allowed to travel around for a few months. We actually traveled together for a short time.”  
  
“So that’s how you two became friends.” I say, finishing off the last fry before pulling a supremely juicy burger out of the bag. “Your friendship is almost older than I am.”  
  
“Yup,” Brendan replies with a fond smile. “Back then, we were just two dumb ten year olds trying to make names for ourselves. We went our separate ways after the fifth gym- I got swept up in dealing with the first Aqua emergence, and I didn’t want to slow Wally down. He was getting stronger every day and didn’t really need me anymore. He got all eight Gym badges just in time to help defeat Aqua.”  
  
“Oh, so then he challenged the Elite Four too?” I ask, munching on my burger.  
  
The look on Brendan’s face tells me otherwise. “Wally’s health took a major nosedive right after the Aqua situation. His parents rushed him back home and he was hospitalized for over a month while he stabilized. After that, they moved him to Verdanturf to be with his aunt and uncle. The air’s much cleaner in that part of the region.”  
  
“Arceus,” I mutter, staring down at my dinner as I process Brendan’s story. “What happened after that?”  
  
Brendan’s expression turns somber, and he bows his head. “Wally was bedridden for nearly a decade.”  
  
I choke on my burger, hand flying to my throat. “What the _fuck_? He was really that sick?”  
  
“Yeah,” Brendan mutters. “It was bad. He didn’t talk to me for six months after I beat the League. He was crushed that he couldn’t compete. Eventually we reconciled and I visited him as much as I could between field research, but I could only cheer him up so much.”  
  
“But he’s better now,” I protest, finding myself desperate for Brendan to get to the happy ending of this screwed-up story. “Dude’s healthier than most people I know. What happened?”  
  
Brendan reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a sleek cell phone. He punches at the screen and scrolls for a moment before presenting it to me. “Recognize this Pokemon?”  
  
I lean forward and take the phone from him, squinting at the screen. An image of a pudgy, white Pokemon fills most of the screen. It dons a yellow cape and the top of its head is a similar color, with curious blue streamers fluttering down the sides. It’s limbs are stubby and it has a strange curvature across its belly.  
  
“Jirachi,” I state in an obvious tone, handing the phone back to him. “The Pokemon that grants…”  
  
“Wishes,” Brendan finishes, offering me an amused smile. “The Millenium Comet passed over Hoenn about seven years ago- around Wally’s twentieth birthday. I was desperate to find a cure for Wally’s illness, so around the time the comet was supposed to pass over, I traveled across the region trying to find Jirachi. And I did.”  
  
My mouth gapes as I regard Brendan. “And Jirachi cured Wally?”  
  
“Correct,” Brendan laughs, rubbing his hands together. “Wally’s disease was incurable by modern medicine, but Jirachi made it happen. Best birthday present ever, right?”  
  
“Understatement of the century,” I mumble.  
  
“Wally was beyond ecstatic to start battling again” Brendan continues, his smile quickly fading. “His badges had expired, though, so he needed to re-do his journey if he wanted to challenge the League like he always dreamed. I was busy doing my final apprenticeship with my dad, so I couldn’t accompany him.”  
  
I already have a feeling I know the answer to the question plaguing my thoughts, but I ask anyway. “Who went with him, then?”  
  
Brendan grimaces, and my fear is realized. “None other than May Maple,” he admits. “And the worst part is that I introduced the two of them.”  
  
His statement makes me cringe. “You did Wally _dirty_.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Brendan laments, burying his head in his hands. “This was before she became a big-shot Coordinator. She had just moved to Littleroot and was going to travel around trying to win Contest ribbons. Plus Wally had the biggest crush on her, so I suggested they travel together as sort of a covert set-up. But she wasn’t who either of us thought she was.”  
  
“Well I’m glad to hear you didn’t purposefully set Wally up with the spawn of Giratina,” I mutter, blinking my eyelashes at him.  
  
“She was sweet at first,” Brendan assures me, although he doesn’t have me convinced. “Really bubbly and nice. I thought she’d be great for Wally. But as she began winning Contests, she got arrogant. Started treating Wally like some sort of assistant. And of course, you’ve seen how verbally abusive she is.”  
  
“Yeah, I got an _awesome_ sneak peek of that earlier today.” I respond sarcastically. Sage crawls closer to me on the bed and rests her head in my lap, burying it in the soft material of my dress. I stroke the length of her back with my free hand, feeling each vertebra one by one.  
  
“It took Wally two years to finally stand up to her,” Brendan informs me with a sadness that doesn’t suit him. “He was just glad to be alive, you know? And he was so sheltered and meek. So he put up with it. Once he finally grew a backbone, May dumped him on the spot. Wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, if you ask me.”  
  
“So _then_ did he get to challenge the League?” I ask, squirming from the anticipation.  
  
“Unfortunately not,” Brendan says with a regretful smile. “May had drilled it into his head that he was a terrible Trainer, so he just kind of gave up. Hasn’t challenged a single Gym since- mostly just traveled solo around a few regions before coming back to Hoenn and meeting you.”  
  
“That bitch,” I hiss, shaking my head furiously back and forth. “And here I was feeling bad that I slapped her.”  
  
“I mean, that wasn’t your finest moment or anything,” Brendan admits, letting out a nervous laugh. “But I think Wally appreciated it nonetheless. I don’t think either of us were expecting you to stand up for him like that.”  
  
I try to shrug off the defensiveness stiffening my entire body, but fail. “It wasn’t just for Wally. She insulted me too.”  
  
An odd smirk flashes across Brendan’s face, but disappears before I can question it. “Yeah, I suppose she did.”  
  
“Regardless,” I continue quickly, crossing my arms in front of me. “She was totally out of line. Wally’s better than most seasoned professionals I’ve seen. He should be challenging the Gyms himself, not following my mediocre ass around Hoenn.”  
  
Brendan snorts, shrugging with his elbows bent and palms facing up. “Try telling Wally that.”  
  
I don’t know what it is in me that mobilizes me to leave the room so abruptly. Maybe it’s my festering hatred for May Maple and my desire to see Wally stick it to her. Maybe it’s the air in here, suddenly suffocating me with the smell of ointment and pungent grease. Most likely, it’s Brendan’s unwitting challenge- to empower a man who’s been told all of his life that he shouldn’t and more importantly, _can’t-_ that resonates within me to such a degree that every inch of my body aches.


	20. Chapter 20

It takes three solid minutes of knocking and shouting a few four-letter words through the thin wall separating us before a light flickers on and Wally opens the door. He yanks me inside his room by the wrist, an embarrassed flush tinting his cheeks. “Arceus, are you trying to wake up the whole damn Pokemon Center?”

The question prompts me to roll my eyes. “Nobody goes to bed at eight o’clock other than _you_ , Mister needs-his-beauty-sleep.”

“Not the point,” Wally shoots back, rubbing his bleary eyes as he plops himself down on the foot of his unmade bed. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t get to congratulate you earlier,” I blurt out, shoving my hands into my cardigan pockets and curling them into fists. “Even if you didn’t win, you and Cleo were super badass.”

Wally eyes me with a suspicion that makes my palms sweat. “Thanks,” he starts in a dubious tone, furrowing his brow. “Is _that_ what you woke me up to say?”

“Don’t sound so surprised!” I exclaim with an unnatural gusto, cringing internally at myself. “That’s what friends are for, right? To congratulate each other?”

The room goes silent for a beat as Wally stares at me in utter puzzlement. “Uh, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” I respond a little too fast, chewing on my lower lip and digging my fingernails deeper into flesh. I’m not sure how I was expecting this conversation to go, but I sure didn’t picture myself blowing it this quickly.

A flash of revelation crosses Wally’s face and he huffs, shaking his head at the floor. “Brendan can’t keep his fucking mouth shut for the life of him.”

I groan under the weight of my pathetic charade, collapsing into the armchair next to Wally’s bed and fluttering my lashes at him apologetically. “Don’t blame Brendan, I forced it out of him.”

“Well, nothing to be done about it now,” Wally replies in a blunt manner, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Now you know how utterly pathetic my existence is. Laugh all you want.”

“I don’t...I don’t want to _laugh,_ ” I reply incredulously, a pang of offense sharp in my chest. “What kind of evil bitch do you think I am?”

Wally sighs at me, remorse evident in his eyes as they flicker to meet mine. “That’s not what I was trying to infer.”

“I’m not the bitch here,” I huff, crossing my legs and leaning into the back of the chair. “Your cunt of an ex-girlfriend is. She stopped you from going after your dream!”

“ _Lilian,_ ” Wally remarks, with an emphasis that startles me- some sort of cross between a warning and a plea. The combination sends a rolling shiver up my spine. I hate that I care what he thinks about me.

“Am I wrong?” I counter with unwavering eye contact, refusing to lose my nerve despite the current circumstances.

Wally remains silent, breaking his gaze to stare at the faded carpet beneath us. He digs the front of his slippers into the frayed loops of yarn, tracing deep, strict lines with his toes. My heart grows heavy as I watch him almost shrink into himself, bearing a startling resemblance to the sickly, sad little boy I’ve only seen in photographs.

“We don’t have to talk about the crappy stuff,” I pipe up, anxiety threatening to overtake me if I fail to break him out of this trance. “But I do want to say that I think you should be challenging Gyms, with how skilled of a battler you are.”

This suggestion seems to do the trick. Wally straightens up, scoffing as if I had just told him he should pose nude for art classes or rob a bank. “I’m not that great. Cleo’s just a natural.”

“Pokemon don’t just naturally _know_ how to battle like that,” I argue, thankful for my previous occupation and the knowledge it’s afforded me for the first time in my life. “Back when I was an MC we had countless Coordinators try to win Contests with borrowed Pokemon of a more advanced level, and it never works. The bond between Trainer and Pokemon is crucial- even a powerful Pokemon doesn’t stand a chance if its Trainer isn’t competent. And take it from me, you’re way more than just competent.”

Wally blushes and to my chagrin, I immediately follow suit. He rises from the bed, facing his back to me as he takes a swig from the glass of water on his nightstand. When he turns back around, he’s regained his composure. “I appreciate the compliment, but all of the Gym Challenge stuff is kind of behind me,” he insists with fervor.

“Does it have to be though?” I challenge, twirling a strand of hair around my finger until it turns white. “It’s not like you’re eighty and decrepit. There’s nothing stopping you.”

“My priorities have changed, Lilian,” he sighs, lowering himself back onto the bed. “Just getting to travel around is plenty to satisfy me. Before you came along, I was just going to travel with Mira and eventually release her like I did Nikolai.”

“Okay, and after a year or two of that?” I ask with exasperation, an incoming headache throbbing at the peripheral of my vision. Arguing with Wally is always a recipe for major migraines.

Wally shrugs, glancing down at his feet. “Probably just travel solo for a while, maybe get a job that lets me visit different places,” he says, a palpable uncertainty lingering in his voice.

“What kind of job?” I press, crossing my arms. “Have some secret degree you haven’t told me about?”

“No, I didn’t think I’d live long enough to make use of one,” Wally replies smartly, fighting off a smirk as he watches me internally debate crawling into a hole to die. Well played, Wakefield.

I groan after a few moments of stunned silence, burying my head into the chair cushion. “You’re already milking the whole ‘I almost died’ thing to win arguments?”

Wally chuckles at my discomfort, drumming his fingers against the bed. “Anything to get the upper hand.”

“Well you win this time,” I grumble, lifting myself off the armchair with a tired grunt and ambling towards the door. “But we aren’t done talking about this.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Wally replies with a hint of uncharacteristic cheekiness, following me across the room as I make my way out of it. “Goodnight, Lilian.”

He closes the door before I can respond, separating me from him. I sigh inwardly as I reflect upon the fact that I came nowhere close to convincing him to take up the gauntlet again. Considering how much of a stubborn ass he is, I suppose I should’ve expected as much. Still, it’s disappointing.

Before departing, I place my hand against the cool surface of the door and allow a faint goodnight brush past my lips- I know Wally can’t hear me, but it feels important to echo his sentiment.

***

The coffee shop buzzes with early morning energy, as if caffeine was injected straight into the atmosphere. A bean grinder whirrs to life right as a barista brings me my shot of espresso, filling the room with a jarring sound that makes my ears sore. I grimace at the unpleasant noise, taking one swift swig from my tiny cup in hopes that it’s enough to help me shake off my residual sleepiness.

I straighten up in my chair as Lisia enters the shop, her cerulean locks stuffed into a baseball cap and dark sunglasses covering her eyes. A beefy bodyguard trails behind her, mumbling something incoherent into his ear piece. He ambles over to an empty table in the corner, glancing up from his menu occasionally to eye me with vigilance.

“Couldn’t lose the muscle, huh?” I ask jokingly, nervousness manifesting itself as a lump in my throat. Arceus, please don’t let me blow _another_ important conversation.

Lisia snorts, removing her glasses and swiping a menu off the counter before settling into the chair across from me. “I wish. The only reason he wasn’t with me yesterday is because I managed to sneak away.”

I consider mentioning how Rafael and Maurice only follow us that closely in big crowds and other specific situations, but explaining the whole Aqua situation to her seems like a headache and a half right now. Instead, I push my now-empty cup to the side and adopt the most composed expression I can muster. “Thanks for meeting me, Lisia.”

“It’s been too long,” Lisia responds, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. “I can’t believe you’re a Trainer now. It’s crazy.”

“You’re telling me,” I laugh, shaking my head as memories of the past two months swirl around in my head. “It was a total accident, too. Wally- oh sorry, the green-haired guy that battled May yesterday- left his bag with an Egg in it next to me and it hatched. The Ralts that came out of it imprinted on me.”

Lisia’s eyes go wide, batting her thick lashes at the notion of it all. “Seriously? That’s one hell of a story.”

“Yup,” I chuckle, patting Mira’s Pokeball in my pocket. “She’s adorable, though. Honestly glad it all happened.”

“She’s a great battler, very adept,” Lisia remarks, turning her body slightly to address the waiter approaching our table. “Soy latte, please.”

I blink at her, surprise overwhelming me. “You’ve seen my matches?”

“Well yeah,” Lisia laughs, flashing me a lopsided smile. “How else would I have known you were a Trainer now? It’s…..not like you keep in touch.”

Her face falls and mine does the same. “The phone works both ways, Lisia.”

Lisia sighs in response, folding her arms across the table. “Our fight was brutal. Excuse me for not really wanting to chat with someone who thinks I’m- what did you call me again? Vapid?”

I exhale sharply through my nose, gritting my teeth as I regard her. “I'm sorry about that, but you weren’t exactly sweet to me during that conversation either,” I point out, trying not to raise my voice and draw unnecessary attention to the two of us. “Those last few months of being an MC were hell for me. Every time I would vent to you, you made excuses after excuses for the Committee! The things they made me put up with…”

My voice trails off and Lisia bites her lip, glancing down at her hands. “I….I know,” she starts, her voice wavering slightly. “It sounds terrible, but I always thought you were exaggerating until the footage of your breakdown was televised. It was the first time I saw it actually _happen,_ you know?”

A barista sets Lisia’s latte down in between us, aromatic steam swirling lazily into the air. Tears begin pooling in my eyes, threatening to overflow if I don’t compose myself. “It would’ve been nice if you believed me without needing proof, Lis.”

“I know,” she replies quietly, a rogue tear of her own rolling down her cheek. “I’m really sorry all of that happened to you, Lilian. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Taking a shaky breath, I ask the one question that’s been plaguing me since our fight. “Why didn’t you?”

Lisia’s shoulders heave at the inquiry, and I feel my chest tighten as I await her response. “I guess I just didn’t want to believe that the Contest world could be like that,” she admits, fidgeting with a silver bangle on her wrist. “You know I’ve been obsessed with being a Coordinator since I was little. I wasn’t ready to be disillusioned with it all.”

A tired sigh escapes my lips. “I mean I _get_ it, it just sucked seeing you deny that the Committee was anything less than perfect.”

“I’ve thought about quitting,” Lisia blurts out, avoiding my gaze and swirling her finger in the bubbly foam of her drink. “After seeing what they did to you, I wondered if I owed it to you to just wash my hands of it all.”

My breath hitches in my chest as I process what was just said. “Really? You would’ve done that for me?”

“I would’ve, and I probably should’ve,” Lisia says with a twinge of regret, twisting a chunky metal ring on her thumb. “You're my best friend, after all. I just couldn’t seem to work up the nerve to give up on my dream.”

“Please don’t think I ever wanted you to leave the industry completely,” I reply quickly, Beautiflies fluttering in my stomach upon hearing she still considers us friends. “I know how much you love being a Coordinator.”

“Oh,” Lisia winces, before flashing me a sheepish smile over the rim of her cup. “That’s my bad, then. You know what they say about assuming.”

I grin back at her, amused at the familiarity of the statement. “Wally likes to say that, too.”

“Speaking of _Wally,_ ” Lisia begins with a sultry emphasis, putting on a rather devious expression. “What’s the deal with you two?”

“Lis!” I admonish her with mortification, reaching over the table to give her elbow a playful push. “Not you too! Everyone in this damn region thinks we’re a couple thanks to the tabloids.”

Lisia snorts into her latte at my distress, sending milk flying onto the table. We both burst out laughing at the spectacle, gasping for breath as we scramble to find napkins to clean up the mess she made. It may not be entirely back to normal, but I’m relieved to see that our friendship wasn’t as irreversibly broken as I thought it was. I think we’re going to be okay.


	21. Chapter 21

“Sage, use Sonicboom!”  
  
Rapid fire shock waves whip through the air and cut into my opponent’s Minun, the harsh impact sending it flying across the field. The Minun totters around in the tall grass, disoriented, and eventually topples over onto its side upon passing out. Mira frantically waves a makeshift flag she wove out of various weeds and flowers while playing in the grass, thrilled that her teammate has emerged victorious.  
  
“Dammit!” the cyclist shouts, slamming his outstretched palm against the fabric of his skin-tight shorts. “How did I lose? I had the advantage!”  
  
I fight back a grin as I recall Sage, tossing her Pokeball to Wally on the sidelines before approaching my surly opponent. “Fair is fair. Pay up please.”  
  
Now seething, the cyclist shoves a wad of crumpled bills into my outstretched hand and stalks off with his unconscious Minun draped over one shoulder. He mutters curses under his breath as he attempts to maneuver his bicycle around the thick clumps of weeds and grass littering the ground. I chuckle when I catch Ginger sticking a taunting tongue out at him once his back is turned.  
  
“Geez, that guy sure was in a pissy mood,” Wally remarks, dropping Sage’s Pokeball into my bag before handing it to me. “Wonder why he was below the Cycling Road in the first place.”  
  
“Not my problem,” I say with a shrug, accepting my bag and slinging it across one shoulder. “All I know is that his cash is buying us a fancy-ass dinner tonight!”  
  
Wally rolls his eyes at me in a judgemental manner. “Aren’t you, like, filthy rich from your Contest days? Does this win really affect your cash flow?”  
  
I puff out my chest, cross my arms, and turn my head away. “For your information, I’ve been paying for all my expenses with money I earn from _battling_.”  
  
“Color me impressed,” Wally replies in an indiscernible tone, nearly drowned out by the sound of an intense battle playing out above us. A screech resonates through the air, followed by a powerful eruption of water that scatters residual droplets onto the grass around us.  
  
“Is that sarcasm or something?” I spit back. The malice in my voice prompts Mira to toddle over, sidling up to me and cuddling my leg with her stubby arms.  
  
Wally looks surprised for a moment, then lets out a nervous laugh. “Not at all. It’s admirable, actually.”  
  
As my face involuntarily decides to change its shade, a familiar voice cries out above the deafening commotion. “Wally! Lilian!”  
  
“Brendan!” I shout back, more than a little thankful for the interruption. “All finished with your research?”  
  
Rafael and Maurice part to let Brendan squeeze through them. A briefcase positively brimming with papers and charts swings from his arm as he runs over to us. “I’ve got everything I need,” he states proudly, as he plops down on the grass with a thud. “The Voltorb in this area are great subjects! The way they reproduce is fascinating.”  
  
Wally turns Cheri Berry-red. “ _That’s_ what you’re researching?”  
  
“I always knew you were a perv,” I tease, easing myself down onto the ground next to him. Mira immediately jumps into my lap, while Ginger prances around in my peripheral pretending she’s above a good snuggle session.  
  
Brendan waves both of our comments away with a casual hand and digs several sandwiches out of his bag with the other. “It’s really not explicit at all. You see, they find a Ditto and emit this sort of discharge and then they start to tremble and—”  
  
“ _Brendan!_ ” Wally and I shout in unison, scaring a flock of Taillow out of a nearby tree. I instinctively clamp my hands over Mira’s ears to shield her from being scarred for life. Brendan simply giggles at the both of us and chomps down on his sandwich.  
  
Once he regains his composure, Wally lowers himself onto the ground to join us. He opens his messenger bag to reveal two plastic containers of fruit salad and a pitcher of sparkling Pecha Juice, completing our impromptu picnic. I shake some Pokepellets into four food bowls and release Roe and Sage to join us in chowing down. Cleo is released as well—she’s given a Razz Berry wrapped in wax paper by Wally and takes a dainty bite once seated.  
  
Throughout the course of our lunch, another battle of epic proportions takes place above us. Shrieks and howls are born at random, followed by crashes and bangs that shake the entire Cycling Road like it’s going to collapse. Roe digs her heels into the dirt, barking at the sky as if issuing a challenge. Ginger scoffs at the savage nature of it all and sashays away from the rest of us to groom herself on a small rock.  
  
“They’re really going at it up there,” Wally remarks, polishing off the last sip of his Pecha Juice. Sage trills in agreement, her translucent wings vibrating steadily. After a week of being injured from her battle with Brawly, she’s finally able to fly again. I can tell she’s happy her wing is no longer bound by gauze.  
  
“That reminds me,” Brendan starts before taking a giant bite of his sandwich. “I must admit I’ve gravely failed you, Lilian.”  
  
I quirk a brow at him and swallow the forkful of salad I’ve been chewing. “How so?”  
  
“We haven’t battled in ages!” he exclaims, slamming his fist down on his thigh. “I’m a pathetic excuse for a rival!”  
  
“Oh,” I laugh, leaning over to grab a napkin so I can wipe crumbs off Mira’s mouth. “Well there’s no time like the present. How about a quick one right now?”  
  
Wally nods and gathers our empty cups and sandwich wrappers in his arms to throw away. “I’d like to see you two duke it out. Lilian’s a little too cocky these days.”  
  
Rolling my eyes, I crumple my napkin and throw it at Wally. “I’m not _cocky,_ I’m just confident.”  
  
“Well as your rival, I shall shatter your confidence!” Brendan proclaims, thrusting a triumphant fist close to his chest. “I even have a newly evolved Renzo at my disposal!”  
  
“Renzo evolved?” Wally asks, his curiosity piqued. “How’d you manage that between studying all that Voltorb sex?”  
  
I let out an amused snort, prompting both Mira and Cleo to giggle. Brendan shoots Wally an exasperated look and digs several Pokeballs out of his backpack. “That’s not _all_ I’ve been studying, you know.”  
  
“Let’s just, uh, table the Voltorb sex stuff for now,” I say, backing far enough away from Brendan to give us plenty of space for the battle. “Show me what you’ve got, Professor.”  
  
Brendan grins at me and lobs his first Pokeball high into the air. Renzo, now much taller and leaner as a Grovyle, emerges with intimidating claws that glisten in the sunlight. I gesture to Mira, and she scampers over and assumes her fiercest battle stance as she glowers at Renzo.  
  
“Confusion!” I shout. I want to end this as quickly as possible given their difference in strength; even I know Pokemon in their basic stages have a difficult time defeating evolved ‘mons.  
  
Mira wastes no time firing off her attack, emitting a brilliant purple light from her horn. Renzo hisses, skittering backwards when he’s hit. Without any instructions from Brendan, he lunges at Mira and slices into her midsection with a glowing blade that seems to have spontaneously sprouted from his arm. Moaning weakly, Mira turns her back to Renzo and attempts to limp away.  
  
“Pursuit!” Brendan yells, and my blood runs cold. Renzo adopts a wicked grin and charges Mira, slamming into her with the weight of his whole body. Mira lets out a strained cry before falling to the ground, officially down for the count.  
  
“Arceus, Brendan,” Wally remarks from the sidelines, an edge to his voice. “That was a little much, wasn’t it?”  
  
I recall Mira and straighten up, standing tall and proud. “It wasn’t more than I can handle,” I reply. “I don’t want you going easy on me.”  
  
Brendan hesitates before shrugging at Wally. “You heard the lady.”  
  
“Let’s show them how it’s done, Ginger!” I exclaim, waving her over from the rock she’s still perched on. She casts an unamused look in my direction before eventually strolling over as slowly as humanly possible. Of course.  
  
With our advantage, I have a feeling this is going to be a quick fight. Ginger kicks things off with Fire Spin, spitting out glowing embers to concoct a vortex that envelops Renzo with no chance of escape. His leafy attacks burn to crisp before they can launch, visibly frustrating Brendan. Try as he might, Renzo is unable to break free.  
  
“Finish him off with Ember!” I instruct, jabbing a forceful finger in Renzo’s direction. He roasts under the crimson heat, fainting almost instantly.  
  
Brendan groans, recalling Renzo before palming another Pokeball. “I hate type disadvantages.”  
  
“Don’t use that as an excuse,” I tease, while giving him an exaggerated pout. “Who’s up next?”  
  
“That would be Dahlia!” Brendan announces with pride, releasing a bubbling Slugma that gapes at Ginger with vacant yellow eyes. Ginger turns up her nose at the rather daft-looking Pokémon and lets out a prissy sigh. In this moment, she almost reminds me of Vivian. I bet they’d get along.  
  
Ginger takes this moment to show off not one but _two_ new moves that I had no idea she even had. The first I recognize from my Contest days as Feint Attack: she approaches Dahlia with trepidation before striking suddenly, leaving a sizable dent in her gooey body. Dahlia vocalizes a cavernous moan, her eyes empty and unblinking. The hollow sound makes me shudder.  
  
The second attack Ginger uses is one I don’t recognize whatsoever. A ghastly aura begins to emanate from her, and soon the same aura wraps around Dahlia like a suffocating blanket. Dahlia barely seems fazed by this, despite taking visible damage.  
  
“I think that’s Hex,” Wally mentions, hand raised to his chin. “It’d do double if Dahlia had a status condition.”  
  
“Too bad Ginger won’t be able to get a burn off,” Brendan taunts, hands resting on his hips. “Use Incinerate!”  
  
Dahlia breathes white-hot flames out of her gaping mouth, blasting Ginger with a wave of sweltering heat. She stands her ground, but her knees nearly buckle, and she lets out a pained wince when the attack washes over her.  
  
“Feint Attack, one more time!” I shout. Ginger bounds forward, feigning left before dashing across the field and sniping Dahlia in the side.  
  
“Rock Throw!” Brendan orders. Suddenly, Ginger is pelted with boulders the size of beach balls, and she’s knocked to the ground with a cry of agony. Dahlia passes out from the effort it took to exert her assault, and Ginger claims her narrow victory.  
  
Brendan sends out his last Pokemon—a Wailmer named Ralph with an infectious, dopey smile—and I begin to perspire. Mira is out of commission, Ginger is moments away from joining her, and Roe doesn’t stand a chance against a Water-type. That leaves Sage, who just yesterday couldn’t even fly.  
  
“Be careful, okay?” I ask Brendan uneasily, motioning for Sage to join the fight. “She was injured up until this morning.”  
  
Ralph emits a spray of agreeable mist, and Brendan winks at me. “No need to worry.”  
  
I nod at him, reassured. “Sage, Quick Attack!”  
  
Sage takes flight, zooming through the sky and doing a fancy little maneuver before plummeting towards Ralph. He is pathetically slow, especially on dry land, and takes the hit without even attempting to move out of the way.  
  
“Ralph, use Water Gun!” Brendan exclaims, and Ralph obliges with enthusiasm. A warm gush of water erupts from his blowhole, soaking Sage’s wings and rendering her flightless.  
  
Clenching my jaw, I consider my next move. At this point I doubt she can fly; her wings look drenched and heavy, like wet newspaper. “Sonicboom, Sage!”  
  
“Rollout!” Brendan instructs with an excited fervor, thriving off the energy of the battle. Sage and Ralph launch their attacks at the same time: Sage whipping up a violent mass of swift air, Ralph tucking his fins and barreling towards Sage at an impressive speed for such a bulky ‘mon.  
  
What happens next makes my vision go black. Sage’s attack fails to slow Ralph’s incoming body, and he smacks into her with the full force of his weight. A nauseating crunch resonates above everything else, followed by a gasp for air that cuts off abruptly. As Ralph rolls across the battlefield, I catch a glimpse of Sage flattened against his rotund body, having been unable to take flight and free herself. I drop to my knees, clutching my chest as if my own life depended on it. Everything goes dark.  
  
A cacophony of sounds litter the air that I am so desperately trying to breathe in. Mira’s shrill sobs pierce my ears, followed by Wally’s shocked gasps and footsteps pounding on the grass as he runs towards me. Something across from me falls to the ground with a thud, and I hear Brendan shouting my name interspersed between apologies. He chokes on every syllable, his lungs failing him.  
  
Everything is dark. Everything is black. My thoughts are fuzzy, and I can’t feel my hands. My heart aches with a sobering grief that makes my whole frame shake. Wally’s arms envelop me from the side, and he digs his fingers into the fabric of my sweater. It’s not a hug; his grip holds me steady as though I might sink into the earth, as if I might perish before his very eyes. I can’t see. Everything is black. Sage. It’s Sage.


	22. Chapter 22

I can’t feel a damn thing.  
  
That’s how numb I am. I can’t feel Mira squirming around in my arms, suffocated by my rigid grip. I can’t feel the light spray of rain as it clings to my face or the wind as it ripples across my skin. I can’t feel Wally’s hand against my shoulder, grasping me as if the incoming storm might carry me far away from here. I wouldn’t mind escaping this nightmare.  
  
“If we’re going to do this, we need to do it now,” Wally informs me with a softness I didn’t know he was capable of. When I lift my weary eyes to regard him, I don’t recognize the man standing next to me. He possesses a sort of quiet strength that I can only assume comes with age and experience. I almost find it comforting. Almost.  
  
Brendan agrees with a slow, silent nod. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and he clutches a wad of crumpled tissues in his hand. I can’t find the words to tell him it wasn’t his fault. Even if I could, I’m not sure he’d listen.  
  
With a shaky sigh, I turn to face Ginger. “You know what to do.”  
  
For the first time since I’ve known her, Ginger obeys me without sass or rebellion. With a heartbreaking hesitancy, she plods away from the group until she reaches Sage’s body wrapped in every spare blanket we could find. Wildflowers picked by Roe and Mira are scattered around her in a crooked heart-shaped formation that Wally helped them with. Sage’s Pokeball rests next to her body, shrunken and void of the life that once inhabited it.  
  
All it takes is a few small embers to ignite the edge of a blanket, and soon, it all begins to burn. A thin pillar of smoke extends towards the sky as angry flames consume Sage’s body and the flowers around her. I gag at the smell of burning flesh wafting through the air, struggling to not vomit from the morbidity of it all.  
  
Once ash is all that remains, Roe approaches the fire and unleashes a Bulldoze that swiftly quashes the flames. Fat tears roll down her cheeks as she retreats, and I grit my teeth hard enough to hurt. I can’t cry; if I start, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.  
  
“C-could you give us a few minutes, please?” Brendan rasps, addressing Rafael and Maurice from their spot a few yards away. They’ve remained silent and stoic from the moment Sage died; I suppose they’re used to seeing things like this.  
  
“You kids take all the time you need,” Rafael replies. He and Maurice amble out of sight just as the wind begins picking up around us.  
  
I swallow the mass of guilt and grief in my throat before glancing between Brendan and Wally. “I guess we should begin.”  
  
Wally is the first to step forward, collecting Sage’s ashes in a small pail we used to make sandcastles in Dewford. He shakes out a portion into Brendan’s hands, then mine. I let out a soft gasp when the foreign substance makes contact with my skin, nearly dropping it all. This is all that’s left of my friend. My companion. Is this really happening?  
  
“Sage was a wonderful addition to your team,” Wally begins, barely audible above the wind. “She was extremely sweet and an excellent battler. Very special.”  
  
“She was the best,” I manage to choke out as my legs tremble. Keep it together, Lilian.  
  
A chorus of distressed babbles emanates from Roe, Ginger, and Mira. Even though we can’t understand what they’re saying, the overall sentiment is clear as day.  
  
Brendan starts to say something but hesitates. His shoulders droop, and he inhales sharply, shaking his head at the ground. Still unable to vocalize all that I want to say to him, I shift Sage’s ashes to one hand and place the other tenderly on his arm. The gesture seems to relax him—and therefore myself—a good deal.  
  
“Choosing to battle with Pokemon means accepting that it’s possible for them to not make it out alive,” I assert with a briskness that earns a side glance from Wally. “What happened here today was a tragedy, but Sage will always remain in our hearts and memories.”  
  
With that, I lean over the edge of the rails and open my hands. Sage’s ashes are picked up by a gust of wind, carrying them high above the sea before they scatter across the water. Once my hands are empty, Mira whimpers for me to pick her back up. My arms feel too weak to oblige.  
  
Wally and Brendan release their portions of the ashes right before a clap of thunder sounds. With that, heavy sheets of rain begin to fall sideways from the sky. The Cycling Road shields us from getting soaked, but Roe and Ginger shriek in unison at the smattering of rain coming in through the sides.  
  
I recall my Pokemon with haste and drop their Pokeballs into the front pocket of my bag. I don’t wish to dwell on the fact that it’s one less ball than I’m used to carrying.  
  
“Tissues for the road?” Wally shouts above the storm, interrupting my thoughts as he holds a half-empty packet out to me. Brendan turns around with his briefcase held above his head preemptively, squinting at us as he awaits my answer.  
  
“No thanks,” I respond, swiveling away from Wally to avoid the implications of his question. “I won’t need them.”  
  
***  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
Wally stands across from me, smack dab in the center of Mauville City’s square. Animated chatter swirls around us, and a gentle breeze teases the hair on my arms. The sun shines brilliantly above, littering the sky with beams of airy light. Wally clears his throat and tilts his chin at me as he waits for my response.  
  
“I guess so,” I begin, my voice laced with hesitation. I’m not sure why he’s brought me here.  
  
My heart thumps in my chest as I watch him remove an unfamiliar Pokeball from his pocket. It is the inverse of a normal Pokeball: a stark white surrounded by a ring of red. Why haven’t I seen him use it before?  
  
When Wally tosses the Pokeball into the air, my breath hitches. A Ralts, bearing a striking resemblance to Mira, emerges bathed in a pinkish aura. It addresses me with a blank stare, eyes unblinking.  
  
“Who is this?” I ask, my nose crinkling in confusion. “That’s not Mira, is it?”  
  
Wally raises an eyebrow at me before letting out a hearty chuckle. “You don’t recognize Nikolai?”  
  
“Nikolai?” I echo, utterly befuddled. “Nikolai is in Sinnoh. And he’s a Gallade now, isn’t he?”  
  
The sudden blast of a horn makes me jump, and my heart begins to race. Mira appears out of thin air, squaring up to the Ralts across from us. I scramble to find her Pokeball, but it doesn’t seem to be on my person. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot it submerged in the square’s fountain.  
  
“Use Confusion!” Wally shouts without warning, his mouth curling into a devilish grin. The Ralts dashes over to Mira, cackling maniacally as it readies its attack. Mira begins to cry and casts a desperate look in my direction. I try to yell, but it comes out quiet. My limbs move like molasses as I attempt to run.  
  
“Don’t kill her!” I scream, watching in horror as Wally’s grin widens. “Stop!”  
  
 _ **MIRA! NO!**_  
  
I wake up in hysterics, screaming and sobbing at the top of my lungs. Disoriented in the pitch black, I panic and begin to flail. Right as I realize I’m in bed, Wally flings the adjoining door between our rooms open and rushes in clutching a lamp like he’s ready to swing. “What the hell is going on?” he shouts, flicking the lights on.  
  
His outburst startles me into silence for a split second, after which I promptly burst back into tears. Realization crosses his face and he sets the lamp down, hurrying over to me. I can barely see him through my blurry eyes.  
  
“Lilian, you have to calm down,” he states with a gentle authority. He grips my knee with a firm hand as he settles onto the bed next to me.  
  
“I can’t!” I wail, my entire body shaking like a leaf. “Sage is d-dead! She’s fucking _dead!_ ”  
  
Wally bites his lip and nods. “I know, I know. You need to breathe, though.”  
  
“She isn’t c-coming back,” I choke out between painful sobs, clutching at my chest like it’s going to explode. “What if someone else dies? What if Mira d-dies?” I bury my head in my hands and continue to cry, gasping for breath but unable to fill my lungs. Dizziness overtakes me, and I start to feel suffocated.  
  
“ _Stop it,_ ” Wally orders harshly, leaning forward to grab me roughly on either side. He forces me to look at him, his gaze hard and cold. “You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t calm down.”  
  
I sputter at him but clamp my mouth shut and attempt to take a breath through my nose. His grip eases up on me as I begin to breathe easier.  
  
“You...you killed Mira in my dream,” I whimper, pulling away from him to rest my back against the headboard. “I was terrified.”  
  
Wally sighs, then stands up and strides over to the mini fridge where he retrieves a bottle of water. He hands it to me in silence before sitting back down on the foot of the bed. I empty the contents into my mouth before speaking again. “I’m fucking devastated, Wally.”  
  
“I know you are,” Wally replies, his shoulders heaving as he regards me. “I should’ve known you were bottling it up.”  
  
“What else was I supposed to do?” I snap, shooting him a teary-eyed glare. “Lose my damn mind like I just did?”  
  
“Losing a Pokemon is a tough thing,” Wally laments with a small smile. “It’s normal to cry and be sad over it.”  
  
My rib cage feels like it’s rattling inside of me when I take a deep breath. “It’s been a week since she died, and I still feel like I’m never going to be happy again.”  
  
Wally shakes his head, eyeing me with pity. “These things take time. I know it sounds callous, but it’ll pass.”  
  
“I sure hope so.” I sniffle. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand before squeezing my eyes shut, finding comfort in the darkness.  
  
“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re handling your first death better than I did,” Wally admits. “When I was eleven, my Shroomish died battling some random Bug Catcher, and I stalked him for three weeks.”  
  
My eyes blink open, and I hold back a scoff. “Seriously?”  
  
“Yup,” Wally snickers as he scratches the back of his head. “I was obsessed with getting some sort of revenge, even though it was a total accident. Guess that’s the difference between being a Trainer at eleven and being one at twenty-two.”  
  
“Twenty-three,” I correct him, before I can catch myself.  
  
Wally’s brow furrows. “I thought you were twenty-two?”  
  
“I turned twenty-three the day before we arrived in Slateport,” I mumble quietly, tracing the pattern of the bed’s quilt with my finger.  
  
“Excuse me?” Wally asks incredulously, his mouth agape. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”  
  
I roll my eyes at the inquiry, avoiding his bewildered gaze. “Why would you even care? It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”  
  
You could hear a pin drop in the brutal silence that overtakes the room. I instantly regret my words and my palms grow sweaty as I consider what to say to smooth it all over. Once I gather the courage to look up, I’m caught by surprise. Rather than looking sullen or pissed, Wally is smirking at me.  
  
“At this point, do you _really_ not think we’re friends?” he asks with more than a hint of amusement in his voice.  
  
I blink at him, utterly baffled. He bursts out laughing at the look on my face, and I can’t help but follow suit once the ridiculousness of my statement dawns on me. This is the first time I’ve so much as cracked a smile since Sage died. I can’t lie; it feels pretty damn good to not be so sullen. I’m not over what happened by any means, but it’s a step in the right direction. Sage wouldn’t want me to be sad.


	23. Chapter 23

Crooner’s Cafe is a cozy little eatery nestled in a lesser-known corner of Mauville, away from the popular tourist traps and chain restaurants that litter the city. Snazzy jazz music floats through the air, with the mellow hum of a saxophone providing the melody. Waiters dressed in simple black attire deliver plates of charcuterie and other antipasti to patrons seated at circular bistro tables. On the far side of the restaurant, Brendan and Wally sit at a large table covered in wrapped gifts of various shapes and sizes.  
  
“You guys,” I groan as I slide past a waiter carrying bread baskets. “My birthday was nearly two weeks ago. This is dumb.”  
  
“What’s dumb is not telling your _besties_ that you turned twenty-three!” Brendan exclaims, wagging a faux disappointed finger at me. “We must shower you with gifts and delicious food!”  
  
I roll my eyes and lean forward to check the time on Wally’s watch. “It’s nearly two. We’ll need to be quick so I don’t miss my battle.”  
  
“We’ll get you there with plenty of time to spare,” Wally assures me. He distributes the stack of menus a waiter hands him when she passes by.  
  
“She gave us five menus,” I say to no one in particular, quirking a brow upon noticing two extra place settings at the table. “Who else did you guys invite?”  
  
As if on cue, the door chimes behind me. I swivel around to see Steven and Zinnia approaching our table with a bouquet of lilies and a small gift box in tow. Steven is dressed in a tailored button-down and crisp slacks, while Zinnia dons a midnight blue sheath dress accessorized with a thin leather belt. Her engagement ring glistens when soft beams of light from the chandelier hanging overhead hit it.  
  
Wally grins and rises to greet our surprise visitors. “Glad you two could make it.”  
  
“And impeccably dressed to boot,” I observe with a laugh as I glance down at my tired old sundress and sweater. “Way to make me feel like a slob.”  
  
Zinnia waves my comment away with a freshly manicured hand. “Nonsense! You look adorable as always.”  
  
“You look just fine,” Steven assures me as he pulls a chair out for Zinnia. “But we aren’t here to compare outfits; this is a birthday celebration!”  
  
“Indeed,” Wally confirms with a broad smile. “Once you let the Delcatty out of the bag, I couldn’t help but throw you a proper party.”  
  
My face begins to flush from all the attention, and I sink into the empty chair between Brendan and Zinnia. “You really shouldn’t have. And you shouldn’t have made Steven and Zinnia come all the way from _Rustboro_ just for this _._ ”  
  
“Darling, we aren’t just here for your party!” Zinnia exclaims, letting out an airy laugh as she skims the wine list. “We’re here to watch your Gym Battle!”  
  
“Excuse m-me?” I stammer, wide-eyed and sufficiently mortified. “There won’t be much to watch-- I’m subpar at best.”  
  
Steven shakes his head at me over his sleek black menu. “You’re too modest. We’ve watched both of your Gym Battles on television, and you were excellent. Besides, we also have a third reason for being here.”  
  
“Oh?” Brendan asks, his face twisted in confusion.  
  
“I didn’t want to mention it over the phone,” Steven begins, dropping his voice to a low murmur as he scans the room for eavesdroppers. “But there’s been a major break in the Aqua case.”  
  
Wally’s face lights up like a Delibird Tree. “Are you serious?”  
  
“Took long enough,” I chime in, reclining in my chair with crossed arms. “Does this mean we don’t need the bodyguards anymore?”  
  
“Let’s save this discussion for a more private venue,” Zinnia responds quickly as she begins loading my lap with presents. “Open your gifts while we wait to order!”  
  
Brendan pounds the table with his fists and chants for me to oblige, giving our water glasses a precarious shake. Wally chuckles and gestures in agreement, so I begin unwrapping the bounty of gifts in front of me. Among them is a bejeweled can of mace from Rafael and Maurice, a stuffed Ralts sent by Lisia along with her regrets over having to miss the party, and a delicate pair of sapphire stud earrings from Steven and Zinnia. Brendan proudly hands me a misshapen lump of brown kraft paper with what looks like an entire roll of tape wrapped around it. It turns out to be concealing an army green fanny pack equipped with six slots for Pokeballs.  
  
Once all the presents on the table are opened, Wally hands me a small box with a thin red ribbon tied around it. “This one’s from me,“ he says, guiding my hands around the box before he lets go. “Careful taking it out. It’s fragile.”  
  
My curiosity thoroughly piqued, I let the ribbon fall to the floor and raise a puzzled brow when I open the lid. A snowglobe the size of my fist rests inside the box, surrounded by a nest of tissue paper. It’s only when I remove the globe from the box that I understand.  
  
A picturesque beach scene is contained within the globe’s glass walls. Crystalline sand lines the floor and is kissed by a sliver of painted water. A sculpted palm tree spans the length of the globe, providing shade for the two beach chairs that rest under it. When I give the globe a shake, a dreamy deluge of glitter rains down on the entire scene.  
  
“I know you love the beach,” Wally explains in a hurried manner, running a hand through his hair. “Thought it might be nice to carry a piece of it with you while we travel.”  
  
I don’t dare tell Wally that this is one of the best gifts I’ve ever received. I don’t dare tell him that my own damn _mother_ opts for money stuffed in envelopes in lieu of actual presents. I don’t dare tell him that this year, she didn’t even bother. She didn’t even give me a call.  
  
Instead, I place the globe back in its box and tell him it’s great—because admitting I love it requires far more courage and far less baggage than I possess.  
  
***  
  
I cannot and _will not_ accept that this is the leader of Mauville Gym.  
  
A scrawny boy with highlighter-yellow hair strides out of the tunnel to the tune of thunderous applause. He devours the attention, egging the crowd on with raised arms and a gigantic smirk plastered across his youthful face. The jumbo-tron captures the flirtatious wink he offers to a group of fangirls, which sends them into a pathetic fit of giggles.  
  
“You can’t be more than fifteen,” I remark into my mic with a grimace. “I’m assuming you’re not Saul Wattson?”  
  
The boy lets out a haughty laugh as he folds his arms across his preppy polo. “The name’s Oliver,” he corrects me in a snotty tone. “My grandpa’s old news, lady. Passed the torch to me the day I turned sixteen.”  
  
“Last week, then?” I inquire, earning a few chuckles from the crowd.  
  
Oliver scowls at me in silence, opting to send out his first Pokemon rather than answering my question. A Magnemite emerges from its Pokeball bathed in a shower of sparks, and the crowd hoots and whistles when its metal arms begin to whir round and round. I scoff and select Ginger’s Pokeball from my fanny pack. This should be a walk in the park.  
  
“Ember!” I shout, and Ginger takes off across the field. Her hind legs launch into the air as she fires off the attack, nearly obliterating the Magnemite in the process. My jaw hits the floor when I realize it somehow managed to hang on after the super-effective assault.  
  
Oliver points at Ginger, his expression oozing smugness. “Volt Switch!”  
  
The Magnemite whizzes through the air and spews static out of every orifice of its body. It slams into Ginger before she can evade it, returning to its Pokeball as Ginger crashes to the ground and begins to spasm. The smarmy asshole _paralyzed_ her and wasn’t even ballsy enough to leave his Magnemite on the field to face the consequences.  
  
His next Pokemon is a Voltorb that can’t seem to sit still. It rolls around the field without being prompted, bouncing off the stadium walls like a pinball. My stomach tightens as I’m reminded of Brendan’s Wailmer and its massive, rotund body.  
  
“Use Ember again,” I say through gritted teeth as I eye the Voltorb with vigilance. No way in hell am I letting another one of my Pokemon get flattened. Ginger manages to pull off the attack despite her paralysis, but it only grazes the Voltorb.  
  
A shit-eating grin spreads fast across Oliver’s face as he regards me. “Volt Switch!”  
  
Ginger cries out in a mixture of pain and confusion as yet another one of Oliver’s Pokemon smashes into her and immediately returns to its Pokeball. My hands fly to my hips and I struggle to remain civil. “Are you going to grow a pair and actually leave a Pokemon out on the field long enough for a proper fight?”  
  
Oliver rolls his eyes at me and releases the same Magnemite from before. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”  
  
Ginger easily finishes the Magnemite off, but her paralysis cuts her speed in half and makes it likely that future attacks won’t even land. I recall her and send out Roe in her place, watching in amusement as Oliver’s smirk vanishes.  
  
“Not so tough now that I’ve got a ground type on the field, huh?” I taunt, taking great pleasure in watching him squirm.  
  
“That won’t stop us from schooling you,” Oliver mutters into his mic as he sends out his Voltorb once again. It takes off at lightning speed and ricochets off the closest wall in order to launch itself at Roe.  
  
I recognize the attack as Rollout and stomp my foot against the ground. “Oh _hell_ no. Stop that with Bulldoze, Roe!”  
  
Roe obliges with enthusiasm, mimicking me by stomping her feet into the earth. The ground trembles and cracks, splitting wide open to trap the Voltorb in mid-rotation. Roe sends shock waves through the floor as she continues her chaotic tantrum, rendering the Voltorb unconscious in an instant.  
  
The crowd applauds us and I can’t help but smile. Oliver scowls at me as he fiddles with the collar of his polo. “Lucky break. Let’s see how you handle my ace!” He hurls a blue Pokeball streaked with yellow high into the sky, releasing a Magneton that buzzes so loudly I can’t hear myself think.  
  
Roe snarls at it, her confidence unwavering. Emboldened by her display of bravery, I decide now’s as good a time as ever to try out one of her new moves. “Roe, use Dig!”  
  
“Not so fast!” Oliver shouts, looking rather gleeful. “Use Supersonic!”  
  
The Magneton emits a deafening screech akin to nails on a chalkboard, and it manages to stop Roe dead in her tracks. She pauses mid-burrow and begins scrambling around in the shallow hole she’s dug, confused and disoriented. A fervent murmur sweeps over the crowd as they watch her struggle to get her bearings.  
  
“Magnet Bomb while she’s confused!” Oliver commands with a priggish smile. The Magneton launches a swirling mass of steely electrons that crashes into Roe and traps her against the ground. She gasps for air as she struggles under the weight of the bomb.  
  
“You need to use Bulldoze _right now_!” I screech at the top of my lungs, struggling to breathe as Roe’s whole existence flashes before my eyes. Luckily, my outburst seems to shock her into action. I don’t take another breath until she manages to wiggle out from under the bomb and K.O. the Magneton with a violent Bulldoze that devastates the entire battlefield.  
  
Oliver angrily rips his mic off and throws it onto the ground as the crowd goes wild over my victory. I fall to my knees and throw my arms wide, beckoning for Roe to approach. She bounds over to me, and I envelop her in a suffocating hug and squeeze my eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling. I won’t let another one of my Pokemon die. Not again.


	24. Chapter 24

Steven deems our rooms too cramped and the lobby too public for discussing the Aqua situation, so we commandeer the PC lab in the back of the Center. Rafael and Maurice stand guard outside the door along with their Pokemon to discourage others from disrupting our meeting. As we wait for Wally to come back with coffees, Steven thumbs through a small black notebook while muttering talking points to himself. Zinnia files her nails with expert precision, looking utterly bored of all the waiting around.  
  
“Hey, are you doing okay?” Brendan asks. He leans across the table to nudge me with his elbow.  
  
I look up from my magazine, shrug, and crease the page I’m on before closing it. “Oh yeah. I’m used to seeing myself in the tabloids by now.”  
  
“That’s not what I was asking about,” Brendan says, a guilty look spreading fast across his face. “I meant … you really freaked out when Roe was in trouble during your Gym Battle. I know losing Sage hasn’t been easy and—”  
  
“Brendan, I’m totally fine,” I assure him in the breeziest tone I can muster. “You don’t have to keep checking up on me.”  
  
His chest heaves as he fixes his eyes on the worn linoleum floors. “It’s the least I can do after killing her.”  
  
Zinnia pauses mid-file and glances up from her nails with a raised brow. “What’s all this talk about killing?”  
  
Before either Brendan or I can respond, Wally stumbles through the door with a massive tray of coffees precariously balanced between his arms. He mutters incoherent curses under his breath and not-so-gently sets the tray onto the table, causing coffee to slosh out of the cups. Rafael and Maurice’s laughter at Wally’s agitation is faintly audible from the hallway  
  
“Trouble at Staryubucks?” Zinnia pouts at Wally as she tucks her nail file away.  
  
“It was a complete disaster,” Wally huffs, sulking into the chair next to me. “They were short-staffed, and I had to ask them to remake two of the drinks.”  
  
Steven offers him a sympathetic smile from across the table while grabbing his dark roast from the tray. “Well, we appreciate you fetching the refreshments. I suppose we’re ready to begin?”  
  
“Absolutely,” Wally sighs. “Your good news is sure to overshadow my coffee debacle.”  
  
“Don’t get too excited,” Zinnia warns as she reaches for her cortado. “It’s not earth-shattering news or anything.”  
  
Brendan dips a finger in the tower of whipped cream that tops his frappuccino as he narrows his eyes at Steven. “Don’t tell us you were bluffing, Stone.”  
  
“Certainly not!” Steven laughs, simultaneously passing Wally his cold brew and me my vanilla latte. “My wife is a bit of a pessimist, that’s all. She won’t be satisfied with our mission’s progress until every last member of Team Aqua is behind bars.”  
  
A lopsided grin spreads fast across Zinnia’s face as she kicks Steven playfully under the table. “All I meant is that we’re far from putting a stop to Aqua, even with this new information at our disposal.”  
  
“And what exactly would this new information be?” I inquire, removing the lid of my cup to blow on the surface of my drink. “You’ve got us at the edge of our seats here.”  
  
“Of course,” Steven replies. “Apologies for getting off topic. Zinnia, would you like to do the honors?”  
  
Zinnia opts to toy with us for a moment. She takes a lengthy, slow sip out of her cup before lowering it back down. Her lips, slick with a ruby red gloss, leave a perfect imprint on the cup’s rim. A devilish glint lights up her eyes as she glances around the table. “My _extremely_ tenacious and resourceful husband has managed to locate Aqua’s hideout.”  
  
Wally slams his hand on his thigh, a look of pure joy overtaking his whole face. “How the hell is that not earth-shattering news?! You can infiltrate! You can take those bastards down!”  
  
“Arceus, calm down, Wally,” I mutter, smirking into my drink. Seeing him get all riled up is admittedly amusing.  
  
Brendan turns to Steven and flutters his lashes. “Pretty please let us help with the takedown?”  
  
“You boys are getting way too ahead of yourselves,” Steven chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You both know it isn’t that simple.”  
  
“What do you mean?” I ask, my brow furrowed. “Can’t you just, like, call a SWAT team and have them arrested?”  
  
Zinnia snorts at the suggestion and shoots me an apologetic look. “Pardon me, but your naivety is rather charming. We can’t have a bunch of officers just waltz in there.”  
  
Steven places a warning hand on Zinna’s arm before addressing me. “Zinnia’s delivery might not be the most tactful, but unfortunately she’s right.”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose she is,” Wally remarks with a disappointed sigh. “Aqua is one of the most dangerous and highly-organized crime syndicates in the world. We have no way of knowing what’s waiting at that base or if that’s even the only one they have.”  
  
“Precisely,” Steven says with a curt nod. “It’s certainly a big step in the right direction to know about this hideout, but without further research, we can’t risk an attempted takedown of any kind.”  
  
I’m unable to hold back my scowl as I stare Steven down. “So what’s the point of this meeting, then? Sounds like a conversation that could’ve just been had over the phone.”  
  
“We’re informing the three of you in person because we don’t want to risk other channels of communication being corrupted,” Steven explains in a low voice, an air of sudden sobriety palpable in the room.  
  
“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Brendan asks, eyeing Steven with concern.  
  
Zinnia’s chest heaves as she and Steven exchange a worried look. “We suspect a mole has wormed their way into Devon Corp,” she remarks quietly.  
  
“You think someone’s a double agent?” I inquire, glancing around the table. Wally’s jaw is clenched tight, and Brendan’s as white as a sheet. “Do you have any idea who?”  
  
“Not a clue,” Zinnia responds as she massages the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “The whole situation is beyond disturbing. We’ve worked with this group for years. The thought of one of them being an Aqua grunt in disguise makes my stomach churn.”  
  
Steven nods in agreement, tightening his grip around Zinnia’s hand. “We just don’t know who we can trust. We’re a bit panicked, to be quite frank.”  
  
I don’t quite understand why, but the reality of how fucked up this situation has the potential to be doesn’t hit me until I catch a glimpse of Roe’s Pokeball in my bag on the floor. When I remember what that son of a bitch did to me and to her, it dawns on me. That man was evil to his very core. If someone like him managed to insert themself into Devon Corp, this whole takedown mission is screwed. _Hoenn_ is screwed.  
  
***  
  
The night is clear and colder than I’d prefer. I shudder and pull my robe closer to my chest as a gust of wind passes through the courtyard. With a weary sigh, I brush stray strands of hair out of my face and glance up at the sky. To my surprise, I can see a smattering of stars. What an oddity in a crowded city like Mauville.  
  
“Couldn’t sleep either?” a voice calls out from behind me.  
  
Startled by the sudden break in silence, I whirl around and see Steven leaning up against the side of the Center. An unlit cigarette dangles between his fingers, and he regards me with a knowing smile.  
  
“Yeah,” I respond, moving to close the gap between us. “Probably too much coffee earlier.”  
  
“Perhaps caffeinated beverages at seven p.m. were a poor idea,” Steven admits with a chuckle. He digs a lighter out of the pocket of his silk pajama bottoms and ignites his cigarette. The dim ember glow is the only blip of color for miles—another oddity for such a crowded, busy city. It’s as if we’re the only two people awake in Mauville.  
  
I nod my head at his cigarette. “Quite the nasty habit for such a classy guy.”  
  
In true Steven Stone fashion, he gracefully dodges the implications of my comment. “I am quite fortunate to have never developed an addiction. I seldom have a cigarette—only when I am under duress.”  
  
“Well, in that case, I don’t blame you,” I huff, crossing my arms as I press my back against the wall. “Your news about Aqua was bittersweet at best.”  
  
“We certainly aren’t thrilled about the possibility of a mole having wormed their way into this operation,” Steven sighs after taking a drag of his cigarette. “It complicates things. And we don’t have the time for things to be complicated.”  
  
“Life’s funny like that,” I remark with bitterness. “Screws you over just when you think you’re starting to figure everything out.”  
  
Steven glances over at me and places a tender hand on my forearm. “I don’t think Zinnia or I ever got to express our condolences over your loss. We are truly sorry for what happened to Sage.”  
  
“Thanks,” I mumble, my voice stiff. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”  
  
“Losing a Pokemon is always a devastating loss,” Steven laments. “I remember my first death like it was yesterday. All of them sting, of course, but the first one hits especially hard.”  
  
I rub my eyes with vigor, desperate to stop the tears from coming. “I know it’s dumb, but it felt like the whole world was collapsing when she died.”  
  
“That’s not dumb at all,” Steven replies in a gentle manner. “In fact, it actually reminds me of something my father used to say.”  
  
At the mention of his father, a dull pain aches in my chest, as I am reminded that I barely got to know my own before he died. “What did he used to say?”  
  
“My father fancied himself quite the amateur philosopher when he was alive,” Steven begins with a faint grin. “Always had some sort of proverb or aphorism at the ready for any given situation. One of his favorites was a catchy little saying he felt applied to most situations.”  
  
A gentle breeze floats through the courtyard and rustles the leaves of nearby trees. I swallow my increasing grief and ask again. “What did he used to say?”  
  
“As above, so below,” Steven says, tilting his head to gaze at the stars. “As within, so without. As the universe, so the soul.”  
  
“What’s all that supposed to mean?” I ask. I bite the inside of my cheek as I contemplate the phrase.  
  
Without looking away from the sky, Steven’s grin grows wider. “It means that everything is connected. The big, the small. The heavens and the earth. It means that what you went through with Sage is certainly enough to turn your entire world upside down. It’s all connected.”  
  
“It’s a little hippie dippy for my taste,” I admit sheepishly, scratching behind my ear. “But I suppose I can see his point.”  
  
Steven blows a hazy thread of smoke from his lips before he looks away from the stars to meet my gaze. “I thought it was silly when he first mentioned it to me too. But I can tell you that once you really start to pay attention to what goes on in your life, you’ll see that the concept almost always applies.”  
  
Normally I’d be reluctant to put much stock into such mumbo jumbo, but something about Steven as a person makes it impossible not to trust him. He has this air of incorruptible _good_ about him that comes across as impossible to taint. I can see why Wally admires him so much; maybe if I had a mentor like him, I’d have turned out differently.  
  
“Sweetheart?” a feminine voice coos from behind us. “It’s late. Are you coming to bed?”  
  
Zinnia stands under the doorway of the Center, holding the automatic door open with her outstretched arms. She is dressed in a slinky black nightgown with lace around the bust and a floral silk robe that grazes the floor. A delicate yawn escapes from her mouth as she glances between Steven and me. She seems less bothered by her husband being alone with another woman in the middle of the night than she does with having her beauty rest interrupted by his absence.  
  
“Of course,” Steven replies with a compliant gesture. “It was a pleasure chatting with you, Lilian. I hope you sleep well.”  
  
As I watch the pair retreat into the Center, arm-in-arm and obnoxiously in love, I can’t help but wonder if all of this would be easier if I had that kind of love in my life. The kind that comes to find you at one o’clock in the morning. The kind that keeps you sane and steady. The kind that endures through trials and pain and devastating loss. The kind that prevails over all else.  
  
It doesn’t take long for me to realize that I _do_ have that kind of love in my life. That love is Mira. That love is Roe and Ginger. That love was—no, it still _is_ —Sage. She may be gone from this world, but she’ll never be too far. I keep her in my heart, and that’s where she’ll forever remain.


	25. Chapter 25

There’s nothing I hate more in this world than reporters.  
  
They have this way of twisting your words to fit their narrative that just infuriates me. Even worse, they seem oblivious to the error of their ways. At least paparazzi _own_ the fact that they’re scum. Reporters, on the other hand, will spin webs of lies and deception with innocent smiles and chipper voices without batting an eye.  
  
I am reminded of my seething hatred of them when Wally and I are stopped by one on the way out of Mauville. I recognize her as Gabby Sanchez instantly. Not only is she one of the most ruthless, two-faced reporters in all of Hoenn, but she happens to be in the process of filming a one-hour television special about my fall from grace.  
  
“Lilian Meridian!” she calls out as she appears from behind the Route 111 sign a few yards ahead of us. “Any comment on your recent departure from the Contest industry?”  
  
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, earning a squeaky admonishment from Mira. I reach for my sunglasses and begin to speed-walk past Gabby and her cameraman.  
  
“Wally Wakefield, is it?” Gabby presses, matching our pace and shoving her massive microphone into his face. “Any comment on the rumors that you and Ms. Meridian are romantically involved?”  
  
Wally turns bright red and lowers his head. I swat Gabby’s microphone away and glower at her over my shoulder. “ _No comment._ ”  
  
“Well if neither of you are going to answer our questions,” she calls out in a sing-song voice. “Will you at least battle us?”  
  
I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn to face Gabby. “Excuse me?”  
  
“Think of it as a way to prove yourself to all the haters who think you aren’t cut out to be a Trainer,” she replies with a broad smile.  
  
Wally rolls his eyes at the remark and tugs on my arm as he starts to walk away. “That’s stupid as hell. Let’s go.”  
  
Normally, I wouldn’t give the challenge a second thought. I was in showbusiness long enough to know that humoring reporters seldom ends well. But Gabby Sanchez isn’t just any reporter. She’s actively trying to tarnish my reputation. And to be honest, I’m dying to stick it to her.  
  
“Fine,” I say to Gabby, pulling my arm free from Wally’s grasp. “But Wally won’t be participating. He’d decimate you two and it’s only fair you have a fighting chance.”  
  
Gabby flashes me a devious grin and releases a Whismur that opens its mouth and lets out an ear-splitting wail. Mira winces at the noise and squirms out of my arms so she can assume a battle stance. A whirring Magnemite appears from behind the cameraman, blinking a lackadaisical eye as it beeps and hums.  
  
Not wanting to risk her disobeying me, I decide against sending out Ginger. I’m hoping Roe’s more compliant personality combined with her familiarity battling Magnemite will serve me well during this battle. She emerges from her Pokeball a bundle of energy, ready to fight.  
  
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Wally mutters to me as he eyes Gabby warily. “What if you lose?”  
  
The comment stings more than I’d like to admit. “Gee, I didn’t realize I was going to have to prove _two_ people wrong by winning.”  
  
“I didn’t mean to-” Wally starts, but I shoo him away before he can attempt to apologize. I need to focus on beating Gabby, not on listening to Wally stick his foot in his mouth.  
  
“Ready to begin, Miss Meridian?” Gabby calls out from across the way in a saccharine voice that makes me want to strangle the fake-sweetness right out of her.  
  
I nod and point at the Magnemite. “Roe, use Dig!”  
  
Roe burrows her way under the ground, sending the Magnemite into a nervous tizzy. I quirk an eyebrow as the cameraman makes no attempt to direct it to dodge Roe’s attack, instead instructing it to fire off a feeble Thundershock in retaliation. The faint bolt of electricity fails to penetrate the ground, and Roe is able to knock out the Magnemite in one hit.  
  
“Dammit Ty, now’s not the time for your incompetence,” Gabby snaps, letting her innocent facade slip. Rolling his eyes, Ty stalks off the field and retrieves his camera to film the rest of our battle.  
  
“You can forfeit any time you want,” I inform her with a broad smile.  
  
Gabby glares at me before matching my smile with one of her own. “Not a chance.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” I reply, shrugging at her. “Mira, Disarming Voice!”  
  
Upon hearing my command for Mira, Wally jumps to his feet and makes a cutting motion across his neck. I squint at him in confusion as Mira lets out a heart-wrenching scream that’s sure to inflict massive damage. It’s only when the Whismur brushes off the attack like it’s nothing and counters with a gutteral screech that I realize my mistake.  
  
“I see you’re unaware that Whismur are typically immune to sound-based moves,” Gabby remarks, utter delight creeping into her voice. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”  
  
My shoulders slump when it occurs to me that my little oversight will make me look incompetant as fuck when Gabby puts the battle footage in her television special. A dreadful feeling of defeat begins to wash over me, but something surprising happens before it drowns me completely.  
  
Without a single command or instruction from me, an enraged Mira lunges across the field faster than I knew she was capable of. In an instant, her body becomes bathed in a white light that shimmers with a captivating tenacity. My mouth drops as I watch her limbs elongate before my very eyes. My little Mira isn’t so little anymore. She’s lithe. She’s graceful. She’s a Kirlia.  
  
My amazement quickly transforms into amusement upon watching Mira utterly destroy Gabby’s Whismur. She executes a series of twirls and spins that seem to have confused the Whismur to the point of not being able to move. Once she’s done with her dance, she thrusts her razor-thin arms into the Whismur’s soft flesh and sends it flying through the air. It lands unconscious at Gabby’s feet, twitching slightly before going limp.  
  
Wally rushes off the sidelines and drops to his knees once he reaches Mira. He fights back tears as he examines her new form with a big, goofy grin. Mira regards him with wide eyes, murmuring something to him in a voice deeper and softer than she possessed as a Ralts.  
  
I let out a laugh filled with pure, unadulterated joy before smirking at Gabby. “How’s that for your documentary, you smug bitch?”  
  
*****  
  
“How much longer?” I whine, wiping a bead of sweat off my forehead with a tired hand.  
  
“Arceus, are you going to complain the entire time?” Wally asks as he squints at the comically-large map he’s holding in front of him. Fiery Path is a cramped, boiling hot series of tunnels that are impossible to navigate without directions. When I last checked the time, we’d been in here for over three hours. To be frank, I’m fucking over it.  
  
“Why the hell is it taking so long if you’ve been here before?” I inquire with a huff while helping Ginger over a large boulder blocking our path. Unlike me and Wally, she’s positively thriving in this heat. I figured she’d be just about the only Pokemon between the two of us that would enjoy being out of her Pokeball for this.  
  
Wally turns to face me and scowls. “I was here over _fifteen_ years ago, Lilian. Excuse me for not remembering the place like the back of my hand.”  
  
“You’re excused,” I chirp, folding my arms across my chest.  
  
Rolling his eyes but fighting back a small smile, Wally extends his hand to me and helps me over the boulder before climbing over it himself. Rafael and Maurice lag several yards behind, not seeing the need to pay much attention to us considering we’re the only four people walking Fiery Path right now. We continue on wordlessly for a few minutes, the only noise filling our ears being the sound of steam shooting out of cracks in the walls.  
  
But not for long.  
  
I pause when I hear the faintest whimper echo through the tunnel. “Did you hear that?”  
  
“Yeah,” Wally remarks with a frown, folding his map into a small square and tucking it into his pocket. “It sounded like a Pokemon.”  
  
“A Pokemon in pain,” I add as I take a few tentative steps forward to peek around the bend.  
  
When I do, I am knocked flat on my ass by a burly man rushing past me with a Pokemon slung over his shoulder. I hit my shoulder on a rock jutting out of the wall as I fall; not hard enough to seriously hurt, but enough to piss me off. I’m this close to telling the guy off when I notice it.  
  
The striped shirt. Blue stripes. No, not blue. _Aqua._  
  
I freeze, gripping my arm where the rock punctured it but not daring to move an inch. Ginger trots over to me, whimpering as she cowers behind my legs. To my surprise and slight mortification, Wally grabs a fistful of the Aqua grunt’s shirt and throws him against the tunnel wall. The Pokemon- a Sneasel that looks like it’s seen much better days- rolls out of the grunt’s arms and stops just a few inches away from me.  
  
The grunt pushes himself off the wall and gets right up in Wally’s face. “Someone thinks he’s a tough guy, huh?”  
  
“I know exactly who you work for, and there’s no way in hell that I’m letting you steal that Sneasel,” Wally growls, not backing down.  
  
“Steal?” the grunt laughs, stroking his stubble thoughtfully. “Is it stealing if the owner is dead?”  
  
My eyes widen and Wally takes a small step back without taking his eyes off of the grunt. “You son of a bitch, what did you do?”  
  
Before the grunt can respond, Rafael and Maurice come running around the corner along with Ivan close behind. Upon spotting our reinforcements, the grunt clenches his jaw and begins slowly backing away. All it takes is Ivan stomping a fat foot into the ground for the grunt to take off the way he came from, nearly stepping on the Sneasel as he dashes out of sight.  
  
“Are you seriously just gonna let him go?” Wally shouts at Rafael and Maurice with outstretched hands and a furious look in his eyes.  
  
“What the hell do you want from us, kid?” Rafael asks as he shakes his head back and forth. “We’re bodyguards, not hitmen. Our sole assignment is to protect you two.”  
  
Wally and Rafael continue to bicker, while Maurice helps me off the ground. My sweater is ripped and a small amount of blood trickles out of the gash on my shoulder, but I’ll survive. Unfortunately, I can’t confidently say the same about the Sneasel passed out at my feet.  
  
“You guys,” I interject weakly, gesturing at the Sneasel. “She looks bad.”  
  
Ginger approaches the Sneasel with caution, sniffing her limp body. She lets out a sharp yelp and darts back over to me, casting a concerned glance over her shoulder. Wally’s expression shifts from one of anger to one of horror when he looks at the Sneasel. “She’s an Ice-Type in a sweltering tunnel. I don’t know if we can save her at this point.”  
  
My stomach drops at Wally’s admission, and I search my mind for a solution. There’s no way we’re getting out of this tunnel fast enough to cool her down. My hands begin to tremble at the idea of another Pokemon dying right in front of me.  
  
“You could try to capture her,” Maurice suggests with a casual shrug.  
  
I feel dumb not immediately thinking of it, but now’s not the time for self-pity. I drop to the floor and dig through my bag for an empty Pokeball. The Sneasel is easily caught, and it makes me feel sick. There’s no way I would’ve been able to capture her if her former Trainer was still alive. What did that grunt do? What kind of monsters are we dealing with?  
  
“We should get out of here as fast as possible,” Wally remarks as he hoists a whining Ginger into his arms. “Being in the Pokeball will keep her from getting any worse, but there could be permanent damage done if she’s not treated quickly.”  
  
I nod and gather my belongings from off the ground. Before putting the Pokeball away, I hug it close to my chest. “You’re going to be just fine. We’ll make sure of it.”


	26. Chapter 26

All we can do is wait.  
  
That’s what Wally keeps telling me, at least. He assures me there’s nothing else we can do at the moment. We rushed Sneasel to Lavaridge’s Pokemon Center as fast as we could. Nurse Joy is going to do all that she can to save her life. We just have to wait here in this lobby, completely and utterly powerless. We don’t get a say in whether Sneasel lives or dies. We just have to wait and see.  
  
“I can’t take much more of this,” I mumble, scratching at the blood-caked gauze wrapped around my shoulder.  
  
“Don’t itch that,” Wally chastises without looking away from his paperback. “It won’t heal properly if you keep messing with the bandage.”  
  
I lower my hand and refocus my nervous energy towards pulling at a loose thread on the couch. “How much longer are they going to be back there? It’s been three hours, and we haven’t heard any news.”  
  
Wally sighs and creases the page he’s on before lowering his book. “I’m not sure, but worrying about her isn’t going to make the time go by any faster.”  
  
“What else am I supposed to do?” I snap and wind the rogue thread around my finger until it breaks. “She’s _my_ Pokemon now. I have a right to be scared.”  
  
“I’m not saying you don’t,” Wally replies gently, a sympathetic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I just think you need to try and relax while—”  
  
His statement is cut short when an abrupt ping resonates in the air, followed by the red light above the operating room changing to green. A few seconds later, Nurse Joy appears in the doorway pushing a wheelchair with a lethargic but very much _alive_ Sneasel in it.  
  
“Oh thank Arceus,” I breathe. I shoot off the couch and rush over to examine Sneasel. Her breathing is shallow, and one of her eyes is swollen shut. Several bruises and a myriad of cuts litter her body, and a thick bandage is wrapped around her left hand.  
  
“I know she looks rough, but she’s going to be okay,” Nurse Joy reassures us, carefully transferring her from the wheelchair into my arms. “Her name is Isobel, by the way. We’ve replenished her oxygen levels and treated the burn on her hand, so now it’s just a matter of her getting some rest.”  
  
Wally strokes Isobel’s head with gentle fingers. “Will she have any long-term complications?”  
  
“Not any physical complications,” Nurse Joy replies, a hint of hesitancy in her voice. “Unfortunately I can’t say the same about her mental state.”  
  
“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown.  
  
Nurse Joy motions for us to follow her over to the counter, her low heels clicking against the floor with every step. She punches a few keys on her computer before swiveling the monitor around to show us. A dark-skinned girl with curly hair and prominent freckles smiles back at us. The image instantly makes me sick to my stomach.  
  
“That’s her previous Trainer, isn’t it?” I inquire quietly, despite already knowing the answer in my heart of hearts.  
  
“Her name was Harmony Katz,” Nurse Joy informs us as she eyes Sneasel with quiet pity. “Two hikers found her unconscious and bleeding at the foot of Mt. Chimney this morning. She was rushed to the hospital but didn’t make it. Eyewitness accounts of a man fleeing the area with Isobel have led the police to think she was stabbed trying to stop her Pokemon from being stolen.”  
  
Wally shakes his head, hands balled up into fists. “This is a new low for Aqua.”  
  
“Indeed,” Nurse Joy agrees through pursed lips. “Aqua making a reappearance has been quite the thorn in Hoenn’s side as of late, but this level of violence is unprecedented from them. Harmony’s wounds indicate she put up an impressive fight trying to save her Pokemon, so perhaps things got uglier than the assailant planned.”  
  
“I still can’t believe she was murdered,” I remark as I watch Isobel take pained, labored breaths in my arms. “Aqua is more twisted than I gave them credit for.”  
  
Nurse Joy nods, gripping the counter with white knuckles. “We just need to trust the police are doing everything they can to bring Aqua to justice.”  
  
I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from saying anything about Steven and Devon Corp’s involvement in this fiasco. Wally’s reminded me more times than I can count that we’re supposed to keep it hush hush.  
  
`“Well we appreciate you nursing Isobel back to health,” Wally says to Nurse Joy, offering her his hand for a shake. “We won’t keep you up any longer. It’s getting late.”  
  
“I actually have something else to discuss with you before you go,” Nurse Joy replies quickly. She hands me Isobel’s Pokeball before clearing her throat. “It’s about one of Harmony’s other Pokemon that the Center has in their possession.”  
  
I recall Isobel before dropping her Pokeball into my bag. “What do you mean? Weren’t they all stolen?”  
  
Nurse Joy begins to rummage in her apron pocket, only stopping once she pulls out another Pokeball. “The police found this in Harmony’s bag. They think the Aqua grunt missed it while grabbing her other Pokemon.”  
  
“So there’s a Pokemon in there?” Wally asks with a furrowed brow.  
  
“A Chimchar named Virgil,” Nurse Joy responds, wrapping her manicured fingers tight around the Pokeball. “The police brought him into me to make sure he didn’t have any injuries, but from the looks of it, he wasn’t released during the scuffle.”  
  
I bite my lower lip as I stare at the Pokeball. “Does he know that Harmony was killed?”  
  
“Yes,” Nurse Joy says, her chest heaving when she sighs. “He took the news better than anticipated, but balked at the idea of being flown back to Sinnoh to be released into the wild.”  
  
“Not surprising,” Wally murmurs before letting out a bleary yawn. “A Fire-type like him would probably hate Sinnoh’s colder climate. He’d be much happier if he stayed here in Hoenn.”  
  
Suddenly, it becomes clear to me what Nurse Joy is getting at. “You want me to add him to my team along with Isobel, don’t you?”  
  
A guilty smile creeps onto Nurse Joy’s face. “We can try to find Virgil a new owner, but I figured you might be interested in keeping him and Isobel together. Especially considering their shared trauma.” She extends the Pokeball out to me with a hopeful glint in her eyes.  
  
I hold my breath as I consider my options. I had no problem committing to capturing Isobel given the circumstances, but I wasn’t expecting two new team members in such a short amount of time. To be honest, I’m not sure if I can handle it. Then again, the alternative is separating two Pokemon that are teammates and most likely friends. Not to mention that tearing Isobel away from yet _another_ loved one doesn’t seem like the smartest move given what just happened to her.  
  
The way I see it, my choice is clear. I take a deep breath before accepting Virgil’s Pokeball into my outstretched hand. In a matter of hours, my team has increased from three Pokemon to five. Arceus help me.  
  
  
***  
  
I have _never_ been this relaxed in my entire life.  
  
Blankets of steam roll languidly through the air and envelop my tired, aching muscles. The pain washes away as bubbly water laps at my skin and soothes every sore spot afflicting my body. My back rests against cool stone that balances out the heat of the sweltering hot springs.  
  
Wally sits a few feet away, lounging with his head tilted back and eyes closed. We would’ve been separated by gender just a few years ago, but Lavaridge knocked down the divider and now allows commingling provided you’re wearing a swimsuit.  
  
In a smaller pool off to the side, Virgil and Ginger splash around in the steaming water. Nurse Joy recommended we visit the hot springs with Virgil as a sort of therapy, considering his typing. I’m starting to think we need to visit an _actual_ therapist; while Isobel has taken to me quite well, Virgil seems to want nothing to do with me. He pretends I don’t exist unless I have food to offer him. And to add insult to injury, he _adores_ Wally.  
  
That’s why it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest to see him swim straight to Wally after an unsuccessful flirtation with a prim Jigglypuff. His lower lip juts out and wiggles as if he’s about to cry. Wally opens his eyes and offers him a consoling pat on the head before shooting me a confused look. “Why’s he so mopey?”  
  
“I think he was trying to romance that Jigglypuff over there,” I reply, trying my best not to smirk. Ginger scoffs at my intimation and rolls her eyes at Virgil’s efforts. Virgil sticks his tongue out at her before nuzzling his head into the crook of Wally’s elbow.  
  
“Ahhh,” Wally realizes with a smile. He tilts Virgil’s chin so that he has his full attention. “Want my advice, buddy? Don’t bother with love. It’s never worth the trouble.”  
  
My eye twitches involuntarily at the comment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Wally shifts Virgil so he’s propped up on his lap, and then he furrows his brow at me. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, isn’t it?”  
  
“Assume I’m stupid, then,” I remark, suddenly aware of an acute pain in my chest that the hot springs have yet to alleviate.  
  
“Done,” Wally says with a cheeky grin. Virgil imitates the facial expression while winking at me.  
  
I let out an irritated huff, crossing my arms over my bikini top. “Are you saying you’re just never bothering with trying to date women again? That’s beyond dumb, even for you.”  
  
Wally eyes me with a look that makes me feel transparent. Like my skin is made of glass and everything inside is on display. He averts his gaze after a few moments, opting to silently stroke Virgil’s fur instead of answering my question.  
  
“Well?” I press, growing flustered. “Let’s hear more about this delusional philosophy of yours.”  
  
“I just don’t think love is all it’s cracked up to be,” Wally finally responds. He puffs out his chest and straightens up as if he’s being put on trial.  
  
My eyes flutter shut as I take a measured breath. “It’s because of that psycho you dated, right?”  
  
“Ya think?” Wally snorts in response. I hear Virgil paddling away towards the smaller pool, no doubt bored by our cumbersome conversation.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong—I totally get why she’s soured you to being in a relationship.” I stretch both hands above my head to crack my knuckles. “But don’t you wanna stick it to her? Show her what she’s missing?”  
  
Wally scoffs, and I hear a splash when he swats at the water. “I’m not convinced she’s missing much.”  
  
“Oh _please_ ,” I protest, opening my eyes to glare at him. “Don’t let that bitch make you feel like you don’t have anything to offer. That’s just pathetic.”  
  
“I didn’t realize I was talking to a relationship expert,” Wally counters, an edge to his voice. “Tell me—how many boyfriends have you had to make you feel like such an authority on the subject?”  
  
My first instinct is to give him a piece of my mind for even _asking_ me something like that, but a familiar shame is quick to sober me. “Zero.”  
  
A mortifying silence settles between us at once, making me wish I had lied. Wally stares at me for what seems like an eternity before letting out an awkward series of coughs. “You’re serious?”  
  
“Is it so hard to believe?” I grumble as I squirm around in the water in an attempt to get comfortable. “You’ve had a front row seat to how much of an unbearable asshole I am for the past few months.”  
  
Wally inhales sharply, as if preparing to launch into a tangent. He seems to decide against this, however, opting to simply shake his head at me. “What a stupid thing to say.”  
  
“Excuse me?” I ask, face flushing at the observation. My ego can only take so many hits.  
  
“It’s stupid to view yourself that way,” Wally clarifies. He runs a hand through his hair, matted and slick from the humidity. Beads of sweat slide down his bare chest and ripple the surface of the water when they fall. “You’re far from unbearable, but it’ll become a self-fulfilling prophecy if you constantly rag on yourself like that.”  
  
I can’t help but smirk. “Hello, Pot. I’m Kettle.”  
  
Wally purses his lips to suppress a grin, knowing he’s been found out. “We can both stand to work on that, I suppose.”  
  
Smiling, I glance down at my reflection in the swirling water. I spent so much time in a costume these past few years that sometimes my true appearance still surprises me. When I was stuck being an MC, I wore a permanent scowl that I’d only shed in front of the cameras. These days, I catch myself smiling more and more. I can’t say I mind the change.


	27. Chapter 27

Alright, it’s official. Brendan’s on my shit list.  
  
“Where the hell is he?” I grumble, pacing back and forth in front of Lavaridge Gym. Its fiery red roof looms overhead, protecting us from the fat drops of rain that plummet out of the sky. “He was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”  
  
“Maybe he got caught up in all this rain?” Wally guesses. He sits on a long metal bench with Virgil, who evolved into a lanky Monferno just yesterday. As we were leaving the hot springs, he was shot down again by the same snooty Jigglypuff. In a last-ditch effort to woo her, he evolved right then and there. Unfortunately, the Jigglypuff was no more impressed than she was when he was a Chimchar. Poor little guy.  
  
“Well, he sucks for not planning ahead, then!” I exclaim as I throw my hands in the air from the frustration of it all. Just as I do, a clap of thunder sounds in the distance.  
  
Wally rolls his eyes at me when he thinks I’m not looking. “How could he have known it was going to pour? It wasn’t even in the forecast for today.”  
  
“Whatever,” I huff, crossing my arms over my raincoat. “At this point, he’ll just have to find you in the crowd. My match starts in five minutes.”  
  
“You think you’re ready for this?” Wally asks, gesturing towards the Gym with a lazy flick of the wrist.  
  
I nod and glance down at the three Pokeballs clipped to my holster. “Ginger and Roe have no issues handling Fire-types. And with Mira being a Kirlia now, I’m not worried about her either.”  
  
“Good,” Wally responds as he scratches Virgil’s pale belly, who begins checking Wally’s hair for fleas. “Virgil and I will be rooting for you up in the stands. It’s too bad Isobel can’t join us.”  
  
“She’d melt in there,” I sigh, a twinge of guilt plucking at my conscience. “I hate how we’ve had to keep her in her Pokeball so much.”  
  
A regretful smile pulls at the corners of Wally’s mouth. “It’s not our fault Lavaridge is hot as hell. After today, we’ll be able to spend a lot more time with her.”  
  
Before I can respond, a uniformed man wearing a headset pokes his head out of the Gym’s front door. “It’s time to go, Miss Meridian.” He hands me a mic, which I clip to the strap of my dress.  
  
“We’ll hurry up to the stands,” Wally says, hoisting himself off the bench. “I think Rafael and Maurice got seats near the middle. I’d wish you luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”  
  
“Thanks,” I reply, fighting back a grin. Wally salutes me before he disappears inside the Gym with a drowsy-looking Virgil. I would’ve used him in battle today, but I’ve barely gotten a chance to train him. To my chagrin, he seems to prefer napping to fighting.  
  
I am led into the Gym through a side door and escorted to the battlefield with haste. The moment I step out onto the pitch, every last one of my senses are assaulted. Sweltering heat washes over me in waves, prompting me to shed my raincoat as quickly as I can. The air smells of charcoal and firewood that’s been lit ablaze for hours on end. Tendrils of smoke reach upward, dissipating just before they make contact with the ceiling. The crowd roars to life as I enter the room, their cheers reminiscent of crackling embers.  
  
As the smoke and soot begin to fade, Flannery Young comes into view on the other side of the battlefield. Ironically, her claim to fame is that she doesn’t look her age. People speculate that all the time she spends in the hot springs keeps her skin looking as youthful as it did when she became Lavaridge’s Gym leader sixteen years ago. I’d believe it; she looks more like a teenager to me than a woman in her thirties.  
  
Flannery is flanked by two massive bonfires—clearly the source of all the heat and smog in the room—that sizzle and snap with vigor. She greets me with a beaming smile, her crop top inching up her torso to expose a belly button piercing as she offers me an enthusiastic wave. “Welcome, Miss Meridian! I’m thrilled to be battling you today!”  
  
“Ditto,” I reply through a fit of coughs. “Any way we could, uh, lower the temperature in here?”  
  
A wicked grin spreads across Flannery’s comely face. “If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen. Or the Gym, in this case.”  
  
“Fair enough,” I laugh, removing Ginger’s Pokeball from its holster and releasing her for battle. She lets out a disinterested sigh when Flannery sends out a Slugma that somehow seems even _more_ dopey than Brendan’s.  
  
Unfortunately for us, Flannery’s Slugma turns out to be more savvy than it looks. It manages to land a crippling Overheat before I can get a command out. Ginger hisses when the white-hot embers prick at her skin, and she skids backwards after a particularly large one hits her square in the chest.  
  
“Incinerate!” I shout, hoping that her strongest move stands a chance to deal formidable damage. I’m keenly aware that her typing is a double-edged sword in this battle. Damage she takes isn’t very effective, but her own damage output isn’t either.  
  
Ginger breathes a mass of sweltering flame that envelops the Slugma whole before it can move out of the way. I puff out my chest, proud of Ginger’s success. Not five seconds later, my pride is quashed when bulbous chunks of rock begin to fly across the field.  
  
I gasp in unison with the crowd as the biggest boulder of them all slams into Ginger. The impact sends her whizzing towards me, and I lunge out of the way just in time. She collapses into a twitching heap on the ground, sputtering in an attempt to get the dirt out of her mouth, and Flannery uses the opportunity to have Slugma set up Sunny Day. An artificial light twinkles above the stadium in stark contrast to the torrential downpour that can be seen out the glass ceiling.  
  
My hand flies to Ginger’s Pokeball as I prepare to recall her, but she picks herself up with a huff and digs her heels into the dirt. I think she’s more stubborn than Wally and me _combined_ —and that’s saying something.  
  
“You wanna keep fighting?” I ask, to which Ginger responds with a curt nod. “Fine by me. Fire Spin!”  
  
Pissed off and with something to prove, Ginger launches the mother of all Fire Spins. Chaotic, searing flames that would be right at home in the depths of hell trap Flannery’s Slugma and leave absolutely zero room for escape. I make a mental note to never get on Ginger’s bad side.  
  
Before the Slugma faints, it manages to get off a Light Screen. Walls of violet luminescence build themselves around the Slugma’s body as it slumps to the floor in a gooey heap. With a frown, Flannery recalls it and sends out a whinnying Numel in its place.  
  
Not wanting to push my luck, I switch out Ginger for a fully healthy Roe. The roar of the crowd causes Roe’s entire frame to shake with unadulterated excitement. She rocks back on her hind legs to wave a stubby, enthusiastic paw at Flannery’s Numel. The Numel sneers at Roe and turns its head back to look at Flannery for a command.  
  
“Don’t be rude,” Flannery chides, bending over slightly to wag her finger. “Use Lava Plume!”  
  
The Numel lets out a snort before slamming its feet against the dusty, parched ground. Small cracks begin to form where it stomped, and I nearly lose my balance once the floor starts to tremble underneath me. The cracks grow longer and farther apart with every second, revealing a network of molten lava that spans the entire battlefield just a few feet below the surface.  
  
I instruct Roe to dodge the inevitable attack, but she doesn’t move quickly enough. With a primal grunt, Flannery’s Numel summons geysers of raging magma that erupt in violent displays of crimson. One explodes right under Roe and sends her flying towards the ceiling. She slams against the thick glass with a resounding thud before hurdling back down.  
  
Watching Roe plummet out of the sky makes my heart feel like it’s going to detonate inside my chest. In this case, the best and only defense is a good offense. “Use Bulldoze when you hit the ground!” I shout.  
  
The command is risky, but it works. When Roe lands, the impact sends devastating shock waves through the torn-up earth. The waves knock Numel off its feet, and it convulses as the ground shudders beneath it. It struggles to stand but is unable to regain its footing and promptly passes out from the stress.  
  
“Good recovery,” Flannery remarks with a clap, looking quite impressed. She recalls her Numel and fishes one last Pokeball out of the pocket of her flared jeans. “But your Trapinch looks like it’s one attack away from fainting. Hopefully you have at least one more Pokemon in your arsenal to handle my ace!”  
  
She sends out a Torkoal that is geriatric beyond a shadow of a doubt, but I won’t make the mistake of underestimating it. I decide to give Roe some much-deserved rest and send out Mira to finish the battle. She makes quite the entrance, elongating her slender arms above her head before executing a flawless pirouette. I still can’t believe my clingy little crybaby is the same graceful creature in front of me today. This must be how moms feel when their kids grow up.  
  
“Sunny Day!” Flannery shouts between cupped hands. Her Torkoal tilts its head towards the ceiling and yawns. The action summons a similar artificial light to the one Slugma had concocted, and it heats the stadium to an even higher temperature than before. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice spectators shedding their jackets and fanning themselves with their programs.  
  
This Torkoal may be old as hell, but it must pack a punch if Flannery refers to it as her ace. I know I’ll have to get rid of it swiftly before it can land a boosted attack on Mira. “Use Confusion!”  
  
Now a Kirlia, Mira no longer needs to engage her entire body while readying attacks. Without moving a muscle, she sends a dizzying ray of mauve energy across the field and hits the Torkoal square in the face. It lets out a creaky moan and plops down on its belly. My jaw hits the floor as I watch it roll over onto its side and faint without having landed a single hit.  
  
“I may have been bluffing about Bertha here being my ace,” Flannery calls out over the boisterous crowd, a sheepish smile plastered on her face. She crosses the war-torn field and hands me a smooth, shiny badge in the shape of a flame.  
  
My frame shakes with delighted laughter as two uniformed men escort me off the battlefield and back through the tunnel from which I came. I was expecting to be at a disadvantage with two of my Pokemon unable to battle today and a newly evolved Pokemon that I haven’t had much chance to get used to, but that match was surprisingly easy. Maybe I’m better at this whole Trainer thing than I thought.  
  
Wally meets me at the back entrance of the Gym with an opened umbrella and a goofy grin. “That was your best Gym Battle yet.”  
  
“You think so?” I giggle, holding my newly acquired Heat Badge close to my chest. “It felt good out there today.”  
  
“It looked pretty damn good, too,” Wally replies, closing the gap between us so we can share the umbrella. “You were totally in sync with the girls. Roe’s recovery was one of the best I’ve seen to date.”  
  
We continue back towards the Pokemon Center, shoulder to shoulder and prattling on about the battle. I’m so high on happiness that I don’t notice the hooded man approaching us until he’s just a few feet away. His face is so stricken with despair that I almost don’t recognize him as Brendan.  
  
“Where the hell were you?” I ask in a playfully angry manner, hands flying to my hips in an exaggerated stance. “You missed a damn good battle!”  
  
Brendan remains silent, glancing back and forth between us before his gaze eventually settles on Wally. My demeanor shifts to one of concern when I notice that his eyes are bloodshot and puffy. He’s been crying.  
  
“Jeez, dude. Who died?” Wally remarks jokingly, leaning forward to swat Brendan on the arm.  
  
I elbow him in the ribs in an attempt to alert him to the apparent sobriety of the situation, but his smile doesn’t falter until Brendan’s silence extends past the ten-second mark. Wally’s brow furrows, and he drops the umbrella to his side, allowing the heavy rain to assault us both.  
  
“You’re scaring the shit out of me, Brendan. What the hell is going on?”  
  
With a heaving chest, Brendan finally manages to muster up the dreadful words we need to hear. “Steven. It’s Steven.”


End file.
